WALTON 

HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 


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"Luke  rescues  Mrs.  Merton." 


LUKE  WALTON 


BY 

HORATIO  ALGER,  Jr. 

/  AUTHOR  OF 

"bound  to  EISE,"    "BEAYB  and  bold,"    "PAUL  THE  PEDDLBB,'* 

**  julius  the  stbeet  boy,"   "  the  young  salesman," 

"the  young  outlaw,"   "phil  the  fiddler," 

"the  cash  boy,"  "slow  and  sure,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
THE  NEW  YORK  BOOK  COMPANY 

1910 


BIOGRAPHY  AND  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Horatio  AixtER,  Jb.,  an  author  who  lived  among  and 
for  boys  and  himself  remained  a  boy  in  heart  and  asso- 
ciation till  death,  was  born  at  Revere,  Mass.,  January  13, 
1834-  He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman;  was  graduated  at 
Harvard  College  in  1852,  and  at  its  Divinity  SchotJ  m 
1860;  and  was  pastor  of  the  Unitarian  Church  at  Brewster, 
Mass.,  in  1862-66. 

In  the  latter  year  he  settled  in  New  York  and  began 
drawing  public  attention  to  the  condition  and  needs  of 
street  boys.  He  mingled  with  them,  gained  their  confi- 
dence, showed  a  personal  concern  in  their  affairs,  and 
stimulated  them  to  honest  and  useful  living.  With  his 
first  story  he  won  the  hearts  of  all  red-blooded  boys  every- 
where, and  of  the  seventy  or  more  that  followed  over  a 
million  copies  were  sold  dm-ing  the  author's  lifetime. 

In  his  later  Hfe  he  was  in  appearance  a  short,  stout, 
bald-headed  man,  with  cordial  manners  and  whimsical 
views  of  things  that  amused  all  who  met  him.  He  died  at 
Natidi,  Mass.,  Julj;  18,  1899. 

Mr.  Alger's  stories  are  as  popular  now  as  when  first 
published,  because  they  treat  of  real  live  boys  who  were 
ahvays  upand  about — ^just  like  the  boys  found  everywhere 
to-day.  They  are  pure  in  tone  and  inspiring  in  influence, 
and  maay  reforms  m  the  juvenile  life  of  New  York  may 
be  traced  to  them.    Among  the  best  known  aiei 

Strong  and  Steady;  Strive  and  Succeed;  Try  a/nd  Trust; 
Bound  te  Rise;  Risen  from  the  Ranks;  Herbert  Carter's 
Le;gaey;  Brave  and  Bold;  Jack's  Ward;  Shifting  for  Him,' 
self;  Wait  and  H»pe;  Patd  the  Peddler;  Phil  the  Fiddler; 
Slow  and  Sure;  Jidius  the  Street  Boy;  Tom  the  BooMack; 
Struggling  Upward;  Facing  the  World;  The  Cash  Boy; 
Maimi§  His  Way;  Tony  the  Tramp;  Joe's  Luck;  Do  and 
Dare;  Only  an  Irish  Boy;  Sink  or  Swim;  A  Cousin's  Con- 
tph-aey;  Andy  Gordon;  Bob  Burton;  Harry  Vane;  Hector's 
Inheritance;  Mark  Mason's  Triumph;  Sam's  Chance;  The 
Telegraph  Boy;  The  Young  Adventurer;  The  Young  Out- 
law; The  Young  Salesman,  and  Luke  Walton. 


LUKE  WALTON 

CHAPTER    I 

A    CHICAGO    NEWSBOY 

**  News  and  Mail,  one  cent  each !  " 

Half  a  dozen  Chicago  newsboys,  varying  in  age  from 
ten  to  sixteen  years,  with  piles  of  papers  in  their  hands, 
joined  in  the  chorus. 

They  were  standing  in  front  and  at  the  sides  of  the 
Sherman  House,  on  the  corner  of  Clark  and  Randolph 
Streets,  one  of  the  noted  buildings  in  the  Lake  City.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  Randolph  Street  stands  a  gloomy  stone 
structure,  the  Court  House  and  City  Hall.  In  the  shadow 
of  these  buildings,  at  the  comer,  Luke  Walton,  one  of  the 
largest  newsboys,  had  posted  himself.  There  was  some- 
thing about  his  bearing  and  appearance  which  dis- 
tinguished him  in  a  noticeable  way  from  his  companions. 

To  begin  with,  he  looked  out  of  place.  He  was  well 
grown,  with  a  frank,  handsome  face,  and  was  better 
dressed  than  the  average  newsboy.  That  was  one  reason, 
perhaps,  why  he  preferred  to  be  by  himself,  rather  than 
to  engage  in  the  scramble  for  customers  which  was  the 
habit  of  the  boys  around  him. 

It  was  half-past  five.  The  numerous  cars  that  passed 
were  full  of  business  men,  clerks,  and  boys,  returning  to 
their  homes  after  a  busy  day. 

Luke  had  but  two  papers  left,  but  these  two  for  some 
unaccountable  reason  remained  on  his  hands  an  unusual 
length  of  time.  But  at  length  a  comfortable-looking 
gentleman  of  middle  age,  coming  from  the  direction  of 
La  Salle  Street,  paused  and  said,  "  You  may  give  me  a 
News,  my  boy." 

5 


6  A  Chicago  Newsboy 

**  Here  you  are,  sir,"  he  said,  briskly. 

The  gentleman  took  the  paper,  and  thrusting  his  hand 
into  his  pocket,  began  to  feel  for  a  penny,  but  apparently 
without  success. 

"  I  declare,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  I  believe  I  am  penni- 
less.    I  have  nothing  but  a  five-dollar  bill." 

"  Never  mind,  sir !  Take  the  paper  and  pay  me  to- 
morrow." 

"  But  I  may  not  see  you." 

"  I  am  generally  here  about  this  time." 

'*  And  if  I  shouldn't  see  you,  you  will  lose  the  penny." 

*'I  will  risk  it,  sir,"  said  Luke,  smiHng. 

"  You  appear  to  have  confidence  in  me." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  it  is  only  fair  that  I  should  have  confidence  in 
you." 

Luke  looked  puzzled,  for  he  didn't  quite  understand  what 
was  in  the  gentleman's  mind. 

"  I  will  take  both  of  your  papers.  Here  is  a  five-dollar 
bill.  You  may  bring  me  the  change  to-morrow,  at  my 
office.  No.  155  La  Salle  Street.  My  name  is  Benjamin 
Afton." 

"  But,  sir,"  objected  Luke,  "  there  is  no  occasion  for 
this.  It  is  much  better  that  I  should  trust  you  for  two 
cents  than  that  you  should  trust  me  with  five  dollars." 

"  Probably  the  two  cents  are  as  important  to  you  as 
five  dollars  to  me.  At  any  rate,  it  is  a  matter  of  confi- 
dence, and  I  am  quite  willing  to  trust  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  but " 

"  I  shall  have  to  leave  you,  or  I  shall  be  home  late  to 
dinner." 

Before  Luke  had  a  chance  to  protest  further,  he  found 
himself  alone,  his  stock  of  papers  exhausted,  and  a  five- 
dollar  bill  in  his  hand. 

While  he  stood  on  the  corner  in  some  perplexity,  a 
newsboy  crossed  Randolph  Street,  and  accosted  him. 

"  My  eyes,  if  you  ain't  in  luck,  Luke  Walton,"  he  said. 
"  Where  did  you  get  that  bill.''    Is  it  a  one.?  " 

"  No,  it's  a  five." 


A  Chicago  Newsboy  7 

"Where'dyougetit?" 

*'  A  gentleman  just  bought  two  papers  of  me." 

*'  And  gave  you  five  dollars !  You  don't  expect  me  to 
swaller  ail  tliat,  do  you?  " 

"  I'm  to  bring  him  the  change  to-morrow,"  continued 
Luke. 

The  other  boy  nearly  doubled  up  with  merriment. 

"  Wasn't  he  jolly  green,  though?  "  he  ejaculated. 

"  Why  was  he  ?  "  asked  Luke,  who  by  this  time  felt 
considerably  annoyed. 

"  He'll  have  to  whistle  for  his  money." 

"Why  will  he?" 

« 'Cause  he  will." 

*'  He  won't  do  anything  of  the  sort.  I  shall  take  him 
his  change  to-morrow  morning." 

"  What?  "  ejaculated  Tom  Brooks. 

"  I  shall  carry  him  his  change  in  the  morning — four 
dollars  and  ninety-eight  cents.  Can't  you  understand 
that?" 

"\,You  ain't  going  to  be  such  a  fool,  Luke  Walton?  " 

"  If  its  being  a  fool  to  be  honest,  then  I'm  going  to  be 
that  kind  of  a  fool.    Wouldn't  you  do  the  same?  " 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  I'd  just  invite  all  the  boys  round 
the  corner  to  go  with  me  to  the  theayter.  Come,  Luke,  be 
a  good  feUer,  and  give  us  all  a  blow-out.  We'll  go  to  the 
theayter,  and  afterwards  we'll  have  an  oyster  stew.  I 
know  a  bully  place  on  Clark  Street,  near  Monroe." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  thief,  Tom  Brooks  ?  "  exclaimed 
Luke,  indignantly. 

"  The  gentleman  meant  you  to  have  the  money.  Of 
course  he  knew  you  wouldn't  bring  it  back.  Lemme  see, 
there's  a  good  play  on  to  Hooley's.  Six  of  us  will  cost 
a  dollar  and  a  half,  and  the  oyster  stews  will  be  fifteen 
cents  apiece.  That'll  only  take  half  the  money,  and  you'll 
have  half  left  for  yourself." 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Tom  Brooks.  You  want  me 
to  become  a  thief,  and  it  is  very  evident  what  you  would 
do  if  you  were  in  my  place.  What  would  the  gentleman 
think  of  me  ?  " 


8  A  Letter  From  the  Dead 

"  He  don't  know  you.  You  can  go  on  State  Street  to 
sell  papers,  so  he  won't  see  you." 

"  Suppose  he  should  see  me." 

"  You  can  tell  him  you  lost  the  money.  You  ain't  smart, 
Luke  Walton,  or  you'd  know  how  to  manage." 

"  No,  I  am  not  smart  in  that  way,  I  confess.  I  shan't 
waste  any  more  time  talking  to  you.     I'm  going  home." 

"  I  know  what  you're  going  to  do.  You're  goin'  to 
spend  all  the  money  on  yourself." 

"  Don't  you  believe  that  I  mean  to  return  the  change  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  I  ought  not  to  complain  of  that.  You  merely  credit 
me  with  acting  as  you  would  act  yourself.  How  many 
papers  have  you  got  left.'^  " 

"  Eight." 

"  Here,  give  me  half,  and  I  wiU  sell  them  for  you,  that 
is,  if  I  can  do  it  in  fifteen  minutes." 

"  I'd  rather  you'd  take  me  to  the  theayter,"  grumbled 
Tom. 

"  I've  already  told  you  I  won't  do  it." 

In  ten  minutes  Luke  had  sold  his  extra  supply  of  papers, 
and  handed  the  money  to  Tom.  Tom  thanked  him  in  an 
ungracious  sort  of  way,  and  Luke  started  for  home. 

It  was  a  long  walk,  for  the  poor  cannot  afford  to  pick 
and  choose  their  localities.  Luke  took  his  way  through 
Clark  Street  to  the  river,  and  then,  turning  in  a  north- 
westerly direction,  reached  Milwaukee  Avenue.  This  is 
not  a  fashionable  locahty,  and  the  side  streets  are  ten- 
anted by  those  who  are  poor  or  of  limited  means. 

Luke  paused  in  front  of  a  three-story  frame  house  in 
Green  Street.  He  ascended  the  steps  and  opened  the  door, 
for  this  was  the  newsboy's  home. 


^  CHAPTER    II 

A    I.ETTER    FROM    THE    DEAD 

In  the  entry  Luke  met  a  girl  of  fourteen  with  fiery  red 
hair,  which  apparently  was  a  stranger  to  the  comb  and 


A  Letter  From  the  Dead  9 

brush.  She  was  the  landlady's  daughter,  and,  though  of 
rather  fitful  and  uncertain  temper,  always  had  a  smile 
and  pleasant  word  for  Luke,  who  was  a  favorite  of  hers. 

"Well,  Nancy,  how's  mother?"  asked  the  newsboy,  as 
he  began  to  ascend  the  front  stairs. 

"  She  seems  rather  upset  like,  Luke,"  answered  Nancy. 

"  What  has  happened  to  upset  her .?  "  asked  Luke, 
anxiously. 

"  I  think  it's  a  letter  she  got  about  noon.  It  was  a 
queer  letter,  all  marked  up,  as  if  it  had  been  travelin' 
round.  I  took  it  in  myself,  and  carried  it  up  to  your 
ma.  I  stayed  to  see  her  open  it,  for  I  was  kind  of  curious 
to  know  who  writ  it." 

"  Well?  " 

"  As  soon  as  your  ma  opened  it,  she  turned  as  pale  as 
ashes,  and  I  thought  she'd  faint  away.  She  put  her  hand 
on  her  heart  just  so,"  and  Nancy  placed  a  rather  dirty 
hand  of  her  own,  on  which  glittered  a  five-cent  brass  ring, 
over  that  portion  of  her  anatomy  where  she  supposed  her 
heart  lay. 

"  She  didn't  faint  away,  did  she?  "  asked  Luke, 

"  No,  not  quite." 

"  Did  she  say  who  the  letter  was  from?  " 

"  No ;  I  asked  her,  but  she  said,  '  From  no  one  that 
you  ever  saw,  Nancy.'  I  say,  Luke,  if  you  find  out  who's 
it  from,  let  me  know." 

"  I  won't  promise,  Nancy.  Perhaps  mother  would  pre- 
fer to  keep  it  a  secret." 

"  Oh,  well,  keep  your  secrets,  if  you  want  to." 

"  Don't  be  angry,  Nancy ;  I  will  tell  you  if  I  can,"  and 
Luke  hurried  upstairs  to  the  third  story,  which  contained 
the  three  rooms  occupied  by  his  mother,  his  little  brother, 
and  himself. 

Opening  the  door,  he  saw  his  mother  sitting  in  a  rock- 
ing-chair, apparently  in  deep  thought,  for  the  work  had 
fallen  from  her  hands  and  lay  in  her  lap.  There  was  an 
expression  of  sadness  in  her  face,  as  if  she  had  been  think- 
ing of  the  happy  past,  when  the  little  family  was  pros- 
perous, and  undisturbed  by  poverty  or  privation. 


lo  A  Letter  From  the  Dead 

"  What's  the  matter,  mother  ?  "  asked  Luke,  with  so- 
licitude. 

Mrs.  Walton  looked  up  quickly. 

"  I  have  been  longing  to  have  you  come  back,  Luke,'' 
she  said.  "  Something  strange  has  happened  to-day." 

"  You  received  a  letter,  did  you  not  ?  " 

"Who  told  you,  Luke?" 

"  Nancy.  I  met  her  as  I  came  in.  She  said  she  brought 
up  the  letter,  and  that  you  appeared  very  much  agitated 
when  you  opened  it." 

"  It  is  true." 

*'  From  whom  was  the  latter,  then,  mother  ?  " 

*'  From  your  father." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Luke,  with  a  start.  "  Is  he  not 
dead?  " 

"  The  letter  was  written  a  year  ago.'* 

"  Why,  then,  has  it  arrived  so  late  ?  " 

"  Your  father  on  his  deathbed  intrusted  it  to  someone 
who  mislaid  it,  and  has  only  just  discovered  and  mailed 
it.  On  the  envelope  he  explains  this,  and  expresses  his 
regret.  It  was  at  first  mailed  to  our  old  home,  and  has 
been  forwarded  from  there.  But  that  is  not  all,  Luke. 
I  learn  from  the  letter  that  we  have  been  cruelly  wronged. 
Your  father,  when  he  knew  he  could  not  live,  intrusted  to  a 
man  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  ten  thousand  dollars  to  be 
conveyed  to  us.  This  wicked  man  could  not  resist  the  temp- 
tation, but  kept  it,  thinking  we  should  never  know  anything 
about  it.    You  will  find  it  all  explained  in  the  letter." 

"  Let  me  read  it,  mother,"  said  Luke,  in  excitement. 

Mrs.  Walton  opened  a  drawer  of  the  bureau,  and  placed 
in  her  son's  hands  an  envelope,  brown  and  soiled  by  con- 
tact with  tobacco.  It  was  directed  to  her  in  a  shaky  hand. 
Across  one  end  were  written  these  words : 

This  letter  was  mislaid.  I  have  just  discovered  it,  and  mail  it, 
hoping  it  will  reach  you  without  further  delay.  Many  apologies  and 
regrets.  J-  Hanshaw. 

Luke  did  not  spend  much  time  upon  the  envelope,  but 
opened  the  letter. 


A  Letter  From  the  Dead  1 1 

The  sight  of  his  father's  famihar  handwriting  brought 
the  tears  to  his  eyes,      This  was  the  letter: 

Gold  Gulch,  CaHfomia. 

My  Dear  Wife:  It  is  a  solemn  thought  to  me  that  when  you  re- 
ceive this  letter  these  trembling  fingers  will  be  cold  in  death.  Yes, 
dear  Mary,  I  know  very  well  that  I  am  on  my  deathbed,  and  shall 
never  more  be  permitted  to  see  your  sweet  face,  or  meet  again  the 
gaze  of  my  dear  children.  Last  week  I  contracted  a  severe  cold 
white  mining,  partly  through  imprudent  exposure;  and  have  grown 
steadily  worse,  till  the  doctor,  whom  I  summoned  from  Sacramento, 
informs  me  that  there  is  no  hope,  and  that  my  life  is  not  likely  to 
extend  beyond  two  days. 

This  is  a  sad  end  to  my  dreams  of  future  happiness  with  my  little 
family  gathered  around  me.  It  is  all  the  harder,  because  I  have 
been  successful  in  the  errand  that  brought  me  out  here.  "I  have 
struck  it  rich,"  as  they  say  out  here,  and  have  been  able  to  lay  by  ten 
thousand  dollars.  I  intended  to  go  home  next  month,  carrying  this 
with  me.  It  would  have  enabled  me  to  start  in  some  business  which 
would  have  yielded  us  a  liberal  living,  and  provided  a  comfortable 
home  for  you  and  the  children.  But  all  this  is  over — for  me  at  least. 
For  you  I  hope  the  money  will  bring  what  I  anticipated.  I  wish  I 
could  live  long  enough  to  see  it  in  your  hands,  but  that  cannot  be. 

I  have  intrusted  it  to  a  friend  who  has  been  connected  with  me 
here,  Thomas  Butler,  of  Chicago.  He  has  solemnly  promised  to 
seek  you  out,  and  put  the  money  into  your  hands.  I  think  he  will 
be  true  to  his  trust.  Indeed  I  have  no  doubt  on  the  subject,  for  I 
cannot  conceive  of  any  man  being  base  enough  to  belie  the  confidence 
placed  in  him  by  a  dying  man,  and  despoil  a  widow  and  her  fatherless 
children.  No,  I  will  not  permit  myself  to  doubt  the  integrity  of  my 
friend.  If  I  should,  it  would  make  my  last  sickness  exceedingly 
bitter. 

Yet,  as  something  might  happen  to  Butler  on  his  way  home, 
though  exceedingly  improbable,  I  think  it  well  to  describe  him  to  you. 
He  is  a  man  of  nearly  fifty,  I  should  say,  about  five  feet  ten  inches 
in  height,  with  a  dark  complexion,  and  dark  hair  a  little  tinged  with 
gray.  He  will  weigh  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  But 
there  is  one  striking  mark  about  him  which  will  serve  to  identify  him. 
He  has  a  wart  on  the  upper  part  of  his  right  cheek — a  mark  which 
disfigures  him  and  mortifies  him  exceedingly.  He  has  consulted  a 
physician  about  its  removal,  but  has  been  told  that  the  operation 
would  involve  danger,  and,  moreover,  would  not  be  effectual,  as  the 
wart  is  believed  to  be  of  a  cancerous  nature,  and  would  in  all  proba- 
bility grow  out  again.     For  these  reasons  he  has  given  up  his  inten- 


12  Luke  Forms  a  Resolution 

tion  of  having  it  removed,  and  mede  up  his  mind,  unwillingly  enough, 
to  carry  it  to  the  grave  with  him. 

I  have  given  you  this  long  description,  not  because  it  seemed  at 
all  necessary,  for  I  beUeve  Thomas  Butler  to  be  a  man  of  strict 
honesty,  but  because  for  some  reason  I  am  impelled  to  do  so. 

I  am  very  tired,  and  I  feel  that  I  must  close.  God  bless  you,  dear 
wife,  and  guard  our  children,  soon  to  be  fatheriess! 

Your  loving  husband, 

Frederick  Walton. 

P.  S.— Butler  has  left  for  the  East.  This  letter  I  have  given  to 
another  friend  to  mail  after  my  death. 

CHAPTER    in 

LUKE    FORMS    A    RESOI.UTION 

As  Luke  read  this  letter  his  pleasant  face  became  stern 
in  its  expression.  They  had  indeed  been  cruelly  wronged. 
The  large  sum  of  which  they  had  been  defrauded  would 
have  insured  them  comfort  and  saved  them  from  many  an 
anxiety.  His  mother  would  not  have  been  obliged  to  take 
in  sewing,  and  he  himself  could  have  carried  out  his  cher- 
ished design  of  obtaining  a  college  education. 

This  man  in  whom  his  father  had  reposed  the  utmost 
confidence  had  been  false  to  his  trust.  He  had  kept  in  his 
own  hands  the  money  which  should  have  gone  to  the  widow 
and  children  of  his  dying  friend.    Could  anythmg  be  more 

L)£LS6  ^ 

"  Mother,"  said  Luke,  "  this  man  Thomas  Butler  must 

be  a  villain."  ^^ 

"  Yes,  Luke;  he  has  done  us  a  great  wrong. 
"  He  thought,  no  doubt,  that  we  should  never  hear  of 

this  money."  .  ,     ^  ■,•  - 

"  I  almost  wish  I  had  not,  Luke.  It  is  very  tantalizmg 
to  think  how  it  would  have  improved  our  condition."  ^^ 

"  Then  you  are  sorry  to  receive  the  letter,  mother? 

"  No,  Luke.  It  seems  like  a  message  from  the  dead, 
and  shows  me  how  good  and  thoughtful  your  poor^father 
was  to  the  last.    He  meant  to  leave  us  comfortable." 

"  But  his  plans  were  defeated  by  a  rascal.  Mother,  I 
should  like  to  meet  and  punish  this  Thomas  Butler." 


Luke  Forms  a  Resolution  13 

*'  Even  if  you  should  meet  him,  Luke,  you  must  be  pru- 
dent.   He  is  probably  a  rich  man." 

"  Made  so  at  our  expense,"  added  Luke,  bitterly. 

"  And  he  would  deny  having  received  anything  from 
your  father." 

"  Mother,"  said  Luke,  sternly  and  deHberately,  "  I  feel 
sure  that  I  shall  some  day  meet  this  man  face  to  face,  and 
if  I  do  it  will  go  hard  if  I  don't  force  him  to  give  up 
this  money  which  he  has  falsely  converted  to  his  own  use." 

The  boy  spoke  with  calm  and  resolute  dignity  hardly 
to  be  expected  in  one  so  young,  and  with  a  deep  convic- 
tion that  surprised  his  mother. 

"  Luke,"  she  said,  "  I  hardly  know  you  to-night.  You 
don't  seem  like  a  boy.     You  speak  like  a  man." 

"  I  feel  so.  It  is  the  thought  of  this  man  triumphant 
in  his  crime,  that  makes  me  feel  older  than  I  am.  Now, 
mother,  I  feel  that  I  have  a  purpose  in  life.  It  is  to 
find  this  man,  and  punish  him  for  what  he  has  done,  unless 
he  wiU  make  reparation." 

Mrs.  Walton  shook  her  head.  It  was  not  from  her 
that  Luke  had  inherited  his  independent  spirit.  She  was 
a  fond  mother,  of  great  amiability,  but  of  a  timid  shrink- 
ing disposition,  which  led  her  to  deprecate  any  aggressive 
steps. 

"  Promise  me  not  to  get  yourself  into  any  trouble, 
Luke,"  she  said,  "  even  if  you  do  meet  this  man." 

"  I  can't  promise  that,  mother,  for  I  may  not  be  able 
to  help  it.  Besides,  I  haven't  met  him  yet,  and  it  isn't 
necessary  to  cross  a  bridge  till  you  get  to  It.  Now  let  us 
talk  of  something  else." 

"  How  much  did  you  make  to-day,  Luke  ?  "  asked  Ben- 
nie,  his  young  brother,  seven  years  old. 

"  I  didn't  make  my  fortune,  Bennie.  Including  the 
morning  papers,  I  only  made  sixty  cents." 

"  That  seems  a  good  deal  to  me,  Luke,"  said  his  mother. 
"  I  only  made  twenty-five.  They  pay  such  small  prices 
for  making  shirts." 

"  I  should  think  they  did.     And  yet  you  worked  harder 
and  more  steadily  than  I  did." 
2kk 


14  Luke  Forms  a  Resolution 

"  I  have  worked  since  morning,  probably  about  eight 
hours." 

"  Then  you  have  made  only  three  cents  an  hour.  What 
a  shame !  " 

"  If  I  had  a  sewing-machine,  I  could  do  more,  but  that 
is  beyond  our  means." 

"  I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  get  you  one,  mother.  I 
can  pay  something  down  and.  the  rest  on  installments." 

"  That  would  be  quite  a  relief,  Luke." 

"  If  you  had  a  sewing-machine,  perhaps  I  could  help 
you,"  suggested  Bennie. 

"I  should  hardly  dare  to  let  you  try,  Bennie.  Sup- 
pose you  spoiled  a  shirt.  It  would  take  off  two  days' 
earnings.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  you  can  do.  You  can 
set  the  table  and  wash  the  dishes,  and  relieve  me  in  that 
way." 

"Or  you  might  take  in  washing,"  said  Luke,  with  a 
laugh.  "  That  pays  better  than  sewing.  Just  imagine 
how  nice  it  would  look  in  an  advertisement  in  the  daily 
papers :  '  A  boy  of  seven  is  prepared  to  wash  and  iron  for 
responsible  parties.  Address  Bennie  Walton,  No.  161^ 
Green  Street.'  " 

"Now  you  are  laughing  at  me,  Luke,"  said  Bennie, 
pouting.  "  Why  don't  you  let  me  go  out  with  you  and 
sell  papers .?  " 

"  I  hope,  Bennie,"  said  Luke,  gravely,  "  you  will  never 
have  to  go  into  the  street  with  papers.  I  know  what  it  is, 
and  how  poor  boys  fare.  One  night  last  week,  at  the 
corner  of  Monroe  and  Clark  Streets,  I  saw  a  poor  little 
chap,  no  older  than  you,  selling  papers  at  eleven  o'clock. 
He  had  a  dozen  papers  which  he  was  likely  to  have  left  on 
ihis  hands,  for  there  are  not  many  who  will  buy  papers  at 
that  hour." 

"  Did  you  speak  to  him,  Luke.?  "  asked  Benny,  inter- 
ested. 

"  Yes ;  I  told  him  he  ought  to  go  home.     But  he  said 
:  that  if  he  went  home  with  all  those  papers  unsold,  his  ' 
stepfather  would  whip  him.    There  were  tears  in  the  poor  , 
boy's  eyes  as  he  spoke." 


Luke  Forms  a  Resolution  15 

"  What  did  jou  do,  Luke?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  did,  Bennie.  I  thought  of  you, 
and  I  paid  him  the  cost  price  on  his  papers.  It  wasn't 
much,  for  they  were  all  penny  papers,  but  the  poor  Httle 
fellow  seemed  so  relieved." 

"  Did  you  sell  them  yourself,  Luke  ?  " 

"  I  sold  four  of  them.  I  went  over  to  Madison  Street, 
and  stood  in  front  of  McVicker's  Theater  just  as  the 
people  were  coming  out.  It  so  happened  that  four  per- 
sons bought  papers,  so  I  was  only  two  cents  out,  after 
all.  You  remember,  mother,  that  was  the  evening  I  got 
home  so  late." 

"  Yes,  Luke,  I  felt  worried  about  you.  But  you  did 
right.  I  am  always  glad  to  have  you  help  those  who  are 
worse  off  than  we  are.  How  terribly  I  should  feel  if  Ben- 
nie had  to  be  out  late  in  the  streets  like  that !  " 

"  There  are  many  newsboys  as  young,  or  at  any  rate 
not  much  older.  I  have  sometimes  seen  gentlemen,  hand- 
somely dressed,  and  evidently  with  plenty  of  money,  speak 
roughly  to  these  young  boys.  It  always  makes  me  indig- 
nant. Why  should  they  have  so  easy  a  time,  while  there 
are  so  many  who  don't  know  where  their  next  meal  is  com- 
ing from?  Why,  what  such  a  man  spends  for  his  meals  in 
a  single  day  would  support  a  poor  newsboy  in  comfort 
for  a  week." 

"  My  dear  Luke,  this  is  a  problem  that  has  puzzled 
older  and  wiser  heads  than  yours.  There  must  always 
be  poor  people,  but  those  who  are  more  fortunate  ought 
at  least  to  give  them  sympathy.  It  is  the  least  acknowl- 
edgment they  can  make  for  their  own  more  favored  lot.'* 

"  I  am  going  out  a  little  while  this  evening,  mother." 

"  Very  well,  Luke.     Don't  be  late." 

"  No,  mother,  I  won't.  I  want  to  call  on  a  friend 
of  mine,  who  is  sick." 

"Who  it  is,  Luke?" 

"  It  is  Jim  Norman.  The  poor  boy  took  cold  one  day, 
his  shoes  were  so  far  gone.  He  has  a  bad  cough,  and  I  am 
afraid  it  will  go  hard  with  him. 

"Is  he  a  newsboy,  too,  Luke?"  asked  Bennie  Walton. 


1 6  An  Attack  in  the  Dark 

"  No ;  he  is  a  bootblack." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  black  boots." 

"  Nor  I,  Bennie ;  but  if  a  boy  is  lucky  there  is  more 
money  to  be  made  in  that  business." 

""VVTiere  does  he  live,?"  asked  Mrs.  Walton. 

"  On  Ohio  Street,  not  very  far  from  here.  There's 
another  boy  I  know  lives  on  that  street — Tom  Brooks ; 
but  he  isn't  a  friend  of  mine.  He  wanted  me  to  keep  five 
dollars,  and  treat  him  and  some  other  boys  to  an  evening 
at  the  theater,  and  a  supper  afterwards." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  associate  with  him,  Luke." 

"  Not  more  than  I  can  help." 

Luke  took  his  hat  and  went  downstairs  into  the  street. 

In  the  hall  he  met  Nancy.  She  waylaid  him  with  an 
eager  look  on  her  face. 

"  Who  was  the  letter  from,  Luke  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  From  a  friend  of  the  family,  who  is  now  dead," 
answered  Luke,  gravely. 

"  Good  gracious !  How  could  he  write  it  after  he  was 
dead.''  "  ejaculated  Nancy. 

"It  was  given  to  a  person  to  mail  who  forgot  all 
about  it,  and  carried  it  in  his  pocket  for  a  year." 

"  My  sakes  alive !  If  I  got  a  letter  from  a  dead  man 
it  would  make  me  creep  all  over.  No  wonder  your  ma 
came  near  faintin'." 

CHAPTER    IV 

AN    ATTACK    IN    THE    DARK 

Luke  turned  into  Milwaukee  Avenue,  and  a  few  steps 
took  him  to  West  Ohio  Street,  where  his  friend  lived. 
On  his  way  he  met  Tom  Brooks,  who  was  lounging  in 
front  of  a  cigar  store,  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"  Good-evening,  Tom,"  said  Luke,  politely. 

"  Evenin' !  "  responded  Tom,  briefly.  "  Where  you 
goin'  ?  " 

"  To  see  Jim  Norman.     He's  sick." 

"  What's  the  matter  of  him?  " 

"  He's  got  a  bad  cold  and  is  confined  to  the  house.?  " 


An  Attack  in  the  Dark  17 

Tom  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  don't  go  much  on  Jim  Norman,"  he  said,     "  He  '^ 
ought  to  be  a  girl.     He  never  smoked  a  cigarette  in  hi» 
life." 

"Didn't  he?  All  the  better  for  him.  I  don't  smoke 
myself." 

"  You  have  smoked." 

"  Yes,  I  used  to,  but  it  troubled  my  mother,  and  I 
promised  her  I  wouldn't  do  it  again." 

"  So  you  broke  off?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  tied  to  a  woman's  apron  strings." 

"  Wouldn't  you  try  to  oblige  your  mother  ?  "      , 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  What  does  a  woman  know  about 
boys  ?    If  I  was  a  gal  it  would  be  different." 

"  Then  we  don't  agree,  that  is  all." 

"  I  say,  Luke,  won't  you  take  me  to  the  theayter?  " 

"  I  can't  afford  it." 

"  That's  all  bosh !  Haven't  you  got  five  dollars  ?  I'd 
feel  rich  on  five  dollars."  • 

"  Perhaps  I  might  if  it  were  mine,  but  it  isn't." 

"  You  can  use  it  all  the  same,"  said  Tom,  in  an  in- 
sinuating voice. 

"  Yes,  I  can  be  dishonest  if  I  choose,  but  I  don't  choose.'* 

"  What  Sunday  school  do  you  go  to  ?  "  asked  Tom, 
with  a  sneer. 

*'  None  at  present." 

"  I  thought  you  did  by  your  talk.    It  makes  me  sick !  '* 

"  Then,"  said  Luke,  good-naturedly,  "  there  is  no  need 
to  listen  to  it.  I  am  afraid  you  are  not  Hkely  to  enjoy 
my  company,  so  I  will  walk  along." 

Luke  kept  on  his  way,  leaving  Tom  smoking  sullenly. 

"  That  feller's  a  fool ! "  he  muttered,  in  a  disgusted 
tone. 

"What  feller?" 

Tom  turned,  and  saw  his  friend  and  chum,  Pat  O'Con- 
nor, who  had  just  come  up. 

"What  feller?     Why,  Luke  Walton,  of  course." 

"  What's  the  matter  of  him  ?  " 


1 8  An  Attack  in  the   Dark 

"  He's  got  five  dollars,  and  he  won't  pay  me  into  the 
theayter." 

"  Where  did  he  get  such  a  pile  of  money  ?  "  asked  Pat, 
in  surprise. 

"  A  gentleman  gave  it  to  him  for  a  paper,  tellin'  him 
to  bring  the  change  to-morrer." 

"Is  he  goin'  to  do  it?" 

"  Yes ;  that's  why  I  call  him  a  fool." 

"  I  v/ish  you  and  I  had  his  chance,"  said  Pat,  envi- 
ously.    "  We'd  paint  the  town  red,  I  guess." 

Tom  nodded.  He  and  Pat  were  quite  agreed  on  that 
point. 

"Where's  Luke  goin'.?"  asked  Pat. 

"  To  see  Jim  Norman.    Jim's  sick  with  a  cold." 

"  What  time's  he  comin'  home  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.    Why.?" 

"  Do  you  think  he's  got  the  money  with  him — ^the  five- 
doUar  bill?  " 

"  What  are  you  up  to  ?  "  asked  Tom,  with  a  quick  glance 
at  his  companion. 

"  I  was  thinkin'  we  might  borrer  the  money,"  answered 
Pat,  with  a  grin. 

To  Tom  this  was  a  new  suggestion,  but  it  was  favor- 
ably received.  He  conferred  with  Pat  in  a  low  tone,  and 
then  the  two  sauntered  down  the  street  in  the  direction  of 
Jim  Norman's  home. 

Meanwhile  Ave  will  follow  Luke. 

He  kept  on  till  he  reached  a  shabby  brick  house. 

Jim  and  his  mother,  with  two  smaller  children,  occu- 
pied two  small  rooms  on  the  top  floor.  Luke  had  been 
there  before,  and  did  not  stop  to  inquire  directions,  but 
ascended  the  stairs  till  he  came  to  Jim's  room.  The  door 
was  partly  open,  and  he  walked  in. 

"  How's  Jim,  Mrs.  Norman?  "  he  asked. 

Mrs.  Norman  was  wearily  washing  dishes  at  the  sink. 

"  He's  right  sick,  Luke,"  she  answered,  turning  round, 
and  recognizing  the  visitor.     "  Do  you  hear  him  cough?  " 

From  a  small  inner  room  came  the  sound  of  a  hard 
and  rasping  cough. 


An  Attack  in  the  Dark  19 

"  How  are  you  feeling,  Jim  ?  "  inquired  Luke,  entering^ 
and  taking  a  chair  at  the  bedside. 

"  I  don't  feel  any  better,  Luke,"  answered  the  sick  boy, 
his  face  lighting  up  with  pleasure  as  he  recognized  his 
friend.     "  I'm  glad  you  come." 

"  You've  got  a  hard  cough.'* 

"  Yes ;  it  hurts  my  throat  when  I  cough,  and  I  can't 
get  a  wink  of  sleep." 

"  I've  brought  you  a  little  cough  medicine.  It  was  some 
we  had  in  the  house." 

"  Thank  you,  Luke.  You're  a  good  friend  to  me.  Give 
me  some,  please." 

"  If  your  mother'U  give  me  a  spoon,  I'll  pour  some  out.'* 

When  the  medicine  was  taken,  the  boys  began  to  talk. 

"  I  ought  to  be  at  work,"  said  Jim,  sighing.  "  I  don't 
know  how  we'll  get  along  if  I  don't  get  out  soon.  Mother 
has  some  washing  to  do,  but  it  isn't  enough  to  pay  all 
our  expenses.  I  used  to  bring  in  seventy-five  cents  a  day, 
and  that,  with  what  mother  could  earn,  kept  us  along." 

"  I  wish  I  was  rich  enough  to  help  you,  Jim,  but  you 
know  how  it  is.  All  I  can  earn  I  have  to  carry  home.  My 
mother  sews  for  a  house  on  State  Street,  but  sewing  doesn't 
pay  as  well  as  washing." 

"  I  know  you'd  help  me  if  you  could,  Luke.  You  have 
helped  me  by  bringing  in  the  medicine,  and  it  does  me 
good  to  have  you  call." 

"  But  I  woiild  like  to  do  more.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will 
do.  I  know  a  rich  gentleman,  one  of  my  customers.  I 
am  to  call  upon  him  to-morrow.  I'll  tell  him  about  you> 
and  perhaps  he  will  help  you." 

"  Any  help  would  be  acceptable,  Luke,  if  you  don't 
mind  asking  him." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  ask  for  myself,  but  I  don't  mind 
asking  for  you." 

Luke  stayed  an  hour,  and  left  Jim  much  brighter  and 
more  cheerful  for  his  visit. 

When  he  went  out  into  the  street  it  was  quite  dark,  al- 
though the  moon  now  and  then  peeped  out  from  behind  the 
clouds  that  a  brisk  breeze  sent  scurrying  across  the  sky. 


20  How  Luke  Escaped 

Having  a  slight  headache,  he  thought  he  would  walk  it  off, 
so  he  sauntei'ed  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  business  por- 
tion of  the  city. 

Walking  farther  than  he  intended,  he  found  himself, 
almost  before  he  was  aware,  crossing  one  of  the  numerous 
bridges  that  span  the  river.  He  was  busy  with  thoughts  of 
Jim,  and  how  he  could  help  him,  and  did  not  notice  that 
two  boys  were  following  him  stealthily.  It  was  a  com- 
plete surprise  to  him  therefore  when  they  rushed  upon 
him,  and,  each  seizing  an  arm,  rendered  hira  helpless. 

"  Hand  over  what  money  you've  got,  and  be  quick  about 
it! "  demanded  one  of  the  boys. 

CHAPTER    V 

HOW    LITKE    ESCAPED 

The  attack  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  Luke 
was  foT  the  moment  incapable  of  resistance,  though  in 
general  quite  ready  to  defend  himself.  It  was  not  till 
he  felt  a  hand  in  his  pocket  that  he  "pulled  himself  to- 
gether," as  the  English  express  it,  and  began  to  make 
things  Hvely  for  his  assailants. 

*'  What  are  you  after  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  Do  you  want 
to  rob  me.''  " 

*'  Give  us  the  money,  and  be  quick  about  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  have  any  money  ^  "  asked  Luke, 
beginning  to  suspect  in  whose  hands  he  was. 

"  Never  mind  how !  Hand  over  that  i5ve-dollar  bill," 
sras  the  reply  in  the  same  hoarse  whisper. 

*'  I  know  you  now.  You're  Tom  Brooks,"  said  Luke. 
^*  You're  in  bad  business." 

"  No,  I'm  not  Tom  Brooks."  It  was  Pat  who  spoke 
now.  "  Come,  we  have  no  time  to  lose.  Stephen,  give  me 
your  knife." 

The  name  was  a  happy  invention  of  Pat's  to  throw  Luke 
off  the  scent.  He  was  not  himself  acquainted  with  our 
hero,  and  did  not  fear  identification. 

"  One  of  you  two  is  Tom  Brooks,"  said  Luke,  firmly. 
^*  You'd  better  give  up  this  attempt  at  highway  robbery. 


How  Luke  Escaped  21 

If  I  summon  an  officer  you're  liable  to  a  long  term  of 
imprisonment.  I'll  save  you  trouble  by  telling  you  that 
I  haven't  any  money  with  me,  except  a  few  pennies." 

"Where's  the  five-dollar  biU?" 

It  was  Tom  who  spoke  now. 

"  I  left  it  at  home  with  my  mother.  It's  lucky  I  did, 
though  you  would  have  found  it  hard  to  get  it  from  me." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Tom,  in  a  tone  betraying  dis- 
appointment. 

"  You  may  search  me  if  you  like ;  but  if  a  policeman 
comes  by  you'd  better  take  to  your  heels." 

The  boys  appeared  disconcerted. 

"  Is  he  lying  ?  "  asked  Pat. 

"  No,"  responded  Tom.  "  He'd  own  up  if  he  had  the 
money." 

"  Thank  you  for  believing  me.  It  is  very  evident  .that 
one  of  you  knows  me.  Good-night.  You'd  better  find 
some  other  way  of  getting  money." 

"  Wait  a  minute !  Are  you  going  to  tell  on  us  ?  It 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  Tom  Brooks.  He  ain't  here,  but  you 
might  get  him  into  trouble." 

"  I  shan't  get  you  into  trouble,  Tom,  but  I'm  afraid 
you  bring  trouble  on  yourself." 

Apparently  satisfied  with  this  promise,  the  two  boys 
slunk  away  in  the  darkness,  and  Luke  was  left  to  proceed 
on  his  way  unmolested. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  believed  that  of  Tom,"  thought  Luke. 
"  I'm  sorry  it  happened.  If  it  had  been  anyone  ^ut  me, 
and  a  cop  had  come  by,  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  him. 
It's  lucky  I  left  the  money  with  mother,  though  I  don't 
think  they'd  have  got  it  at  any  rate." 

Luke  did  not  acquaint  his  mother  with  the  attempt  that 
had  been  made  to  rob  him.  He  merely  told  of  his  visit 
and  of  the  sad  plight  of  the  little  bootblack. 

"  I  would  like  to  have  helped  him,  mother,"  Luke  con- 
cluded. "  If  we  hadn't  been  robbed  of  that  money  father 
sent  us ;— " 

"  We  could  afford  the  luxury  of  doing  good,"  said  his 
mother,  finishing  the  sentence  for  him. 


2  2  How  Luke  Escaped 

Luke's  face  darkened  with  justifiable  anger. 

"  I  know  it  is  wrong  to  hate  anyone,  mother,'"  he  said; 
"  but  I  am  afraid  I  hate  that  man  Thomas  Butler,  whom 
I  have  never  seen." 

"  It  is  sometimes  hard  to  feel  Hke  a  Christian,  Luke," 
said  his  mother. 

"  This  man  must  be  one  of  the  meanest  of  men.  Sup- 
pose j*u  or  I  should  fall  sick!  What  would  become 
of  us.?" 

"  We  won't  borrow  trouble,  Luke.  Let  us  rather  thank 
God  for  our  present  good  health.  If  I  should  be  sick  it 
would  not  be  as  serious  as  if  you  were  to  become  so,  for 
you  earn  more  than  twice  as  much  as  I  do." 

"  It  ought  not  to  be  so,  mother,  for  you  work  harder 
than  I  do." 

"  When  I  get  a  sewing  machine  I  shall  be  able  to  con- 
tribute more  to  the  common  fund." 

*'  I  hope  that  will  be  soon.     Has  Bennie  gone  to  bed  ?  '* 

*'  Yes,  he  is  fast  asleep." 

"  I  hope  fortune  will  smile  on  us  before  he  is  mucK 
older  than  I.  I  can't  bear  the  idea  of  sending  him  into  the 
street  among  bad  boys." 

"  I  have  been  accustomed  to  judge  of  the  newsboys  by 
my  son.    Are  there  many  bad  boys  among  them?  " 

"  Many  of  them  are  honest,  hard-working  boys,  but 
there  are  some  black  sheep  among  them.  I  know  one  boy 
who  tried  to  commit  highway  robbery,  stopping  a  person 
whom  he  had  seen  with  money." 

"Did  he  get  caught.?" 

"  No,  he  failed  of  his  purpose,  and  no  complaint  was 
made  of  him,  though  his  intended  victim  knew  who  his 
assailant  was." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  It  would  have  been  hard  for  his 
poor  mother  if  he  had  been  convicted  and  sent  to  prison." 

This  Mrs.  Walton  said  without  a  suspicion  that  it  was 
Luke  that  the  boy  had  tried  to  rob.  When  Luke  heard  his 
mother's  comment  he  was  glad  that  he  had  agreed  to  over- 
look Tom's  fault. 

The  next  morning  Luke  went  as  usual  to  the  vicinity; 


Mr.  Afton's  Office  23 

of  the  Skerman  House,  and  began  to,  sell  papers.  He 
looked  in  vain  for  Tom  Brooks,  who  did  not  show  up. 

"  Where  is  Tom  Brooks  ?  "  he  asked  of  one  of  Tom's 
friends. 

"  Tom's  goin'  to  try  another  place,"  said  the  boy. 
"  He  says  there's  too  many  newsboys  round  this  corner. 
He  thinks  he  can  do  better  somewheres  else." 

*'  Where  is  he  ?     Do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  seed  him  near  the  corner  of  Dearborn,  in  front  of 
the  '  Saratoga.'  " 

"  Well,  I  hope  he'll  make  out  well,"  said  Luke. 

Luke  had  the  fiye-dollar  bill  in  his  pocket,  but  he  knew 
that  it  was  too  early  for  the  offices  on  La  Salle  Street  to 
be  opes. 

Luke's  stock  of  morning  papers  included  the  Chicago 
Tribune,  the  Times,  Herald,  and  Inter-Ocean.  He  sel- 
dom disposed  of  his  entire  stock  as  early  as  ten  o'clock,  but 
this  morning  another  newsboy  in  addition  to  Tom  was 
absent,  and  Luke  experienced  the  advantage  of  diminished 
competition.  As  he  sold  the  last  paper  the  clock  struck  ten. 

"  I  think  it  will  do  for  me  to  go  to  Mr.  Afton's  office 
now,"  thought  Luke.     "  If  I  don't  find  him  in  I  will  wait." 

La  Salle  Street  runs  parallel  with  Clark.  It  is  a  busy 
thoroughfare,  and  contains  many  buildings  cut  up  into 
offices.     This  was  the  case  with  No.  155. 

Luke  entered  the  building  and  scanned  the  directory  on 
either  side  of  the  door.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  finding 
the  name  of  Benjamin  Afton. 

He  had  to  go  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  for  Mr.  Afton's 
office  was  on  the  third  floor. 

CHAPTER    VI 

MR.    afton's    office 

Mr.  Afton's  office  was  of  unusual  size,  and  fronted  on 
La  Salle  Street.  As  Luke  entered  he  observed  that  it  was 
furnished  better  than  the  ordinary  business  oIKce.  On 
the  floor  was  a  handsome  Turkey  carpet.  The  desks  were 
of  some  rich  dark  wood,  and  the  chairs  were  as  costly  as 


24  Mr.  Afton's  Office 

those  in  his  library.  In  a  closed  bookcase  at  one  end  of 
the  room,  surmounted  by  bronze  statuettes,  was  a  full 
library  of  reference. 

At  one  desk  stood  a  tall  man,  perhaps  thirty-five,  with 
red  hair  and  prominent  features.  At  another  desk  was  a 
young  fellow  of  eighteen,  bearing  a  marked  resemblance 
to  the  head  bookkeeper.  There  was  besides  a  young  man 
of  perhaps  twenty-two,  sitting  at  a  table,  apparently 
filing  bills. 

"  ]Mr.  Afton  must  be  a  rich  man  to  have  such  an  ele- 
gant  office,"  thought  Luke. 

The  red-haired  bookkeeper  did  not  take  the  trouble  ta 
look  up  to  see  who  had  entered  the  office. 

"  Is  Mr.  Afton  in  ?  "  Luke  asked,  in  a  respectful  tone. 

The  bookkeeper  raised  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  glanced 
at  Luke  with  a  supercilious  air,  and  said  curtly,  "  No !  " 

"  Do  you  know  when  he  will  be  in.^  "  continued  the  news- 
boy. 

"  Quite  indefinite.     What  is  your  business,  boy  ?  " 

*'  My  business  is  with  Mr.  Afton,"  Luke  answered. 

"  Humph !  is  it  of  an  important  nature  ?  " 

*'  It  is  not  very  important,"  he  answered,  "  but  I  wish 
to  see  Mr.  Afton  personally." 

"  Whose  office  are  you  in  ?  " 

"  He  isn't  in  any  office.  Uncle  Nathaniel,"  put  in  the 
red-haired  boy.  "  He  is  a  newsboy.  I  see  him  every  morn- 
ing round  the  Sherman  House." 

*'  Ha !  is  that  so  ?  Boy,  we  don't  want  to  buy  any  pa- 
pers, nor  does  Mr.  Afton.    You  can  go." 

As  the  bookkeeper  spoke  he  pointed  to  the  door. : 

*'  I  have  no  papers  to  sell,"  said  Luke,  "  but  I  come  here 
on  business  with  Mr.  Afton,  and  will  take  the  liberty  to 
wait  till  he  comes." 

"Oh,  my  eyes!  Ain't  he  got  cheek?"  ejaculated  the 
red-haired  boy.  "  I  say,  boy,  do  you  black  boots  as  well 
as  sell  papers  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  Some  of  the  newsboys  do.  I  thought,  perhaps,  you 
had  got  a  job  to  black  Mr.  Afton's  boots  every  morning." 


Mr.  Afton's  Office  25 

Luke  who  was  a  spirited  boy,  was  fast  getting  angry. 

"  I  don't  want  to  interfere  with  you  in  any  way,"  he 
said. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  the  red-haired  boy, 
his  cheeks  rivaling  his  hair  in  color. 

"  I  thought  that  might  be  one  of  your  duties." 

"  Why,  you  impudent  young  vagabond !  Uncle  Na- 
thaniel, did  you  hear  that  ?  " 

"  Boy,  you  had  better  go,"  said  the  bookkeeper. 

"  You  can  leave  your  card,"  added  Eustis  Clark,  the 
nephew. 

A  friend  of  Luke's  had  printed  and  given  him  a  dozen 
cards  a  few  days  previous,  and  he  had  them  in  his  pocket 
at  that  moment. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,"  he  said,  and  walking 
up  to  the  boy's  desk  he  deposited  on  it  a  card  bearing 
this  name  in  neat  script: 

Luke  Wai^ton. 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  hand  that  to  Mr.  Afton." 

Eustis  held  up  the  card,  and  burst  into  a  guffaw. 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  Mr.  Walton,"  he 
concluded,  with  a  ceremonious  bow. 

"  The  same  to  you !  "  said  Luke,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  never  saw  a  newsboy  put  on  such  airs  before,"  he 
said,  as  Luke  left  the  office.  "  Did  you.  Uncle  Nathaniel.'' 
Do  you  think  he  really  had  any  business  with  the  boss  ?  " 

"  Probably  he  wanted  to  supply  the  office  with  papers. 
Now  stop  fooling,  and  go  to  work." 

"  They  didn't  seem  very  glad  to  see  me,"  thought  Luke. 
*'  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Afton  this  morning,  or  he  may  think 
that  I  have  not  kept  my  word  about  the  money." 

Luke  stationed  himself  in  the  doorway  at  the  entrance  to 
the  building,  meaning  to  intercept  Mr.  Afton  as  he  en- 
tered from  the  street.  He  had  to  wait  less  than  ten  min- 
utes. Mr.  Afton  smiled  in  instant  recognition  as  he  saw 
Luke,  and  seemed  glad  to  see  him. 

"  I  am  glad  the  boy  justified  my  idea  of  him,"  he  said 
to  himself.     *'  I  would  have  staked  a  thousand  dollars  on 


26  Mr.  Afton's  Office 

his   honesty.      Such  a   face  as   that  doesn't  feelong  to   a 

rogue." 

"  I  am  rather  late,"  he   said.     "  Have  you  been  here 

long?  " 

"  Not  very  long,  sir ;  I  have  been  up  in  your  ©ffice." 
"  Wky  didn't  you  sit  down  and  wait  for  me  ?  " 
"  I  don't  think  the  red-haired  gentleman  cared  to  have 
me.    The  boy  asked  me  to  leave  my  card." 
Mr.  Afton  looked  amused. 
"  And  did  you.?  "  he  asked. 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  generally  carry  visiting  cards.?  "  _       ^^ 

"  Well,  I  happened  to  have  some  with  me  this  mommg.^^ 
"  Please  show  me  one.    So  your  name  is  Luke  Walton.? '" 
he  added,  glancing  at  the  card.  ,  .   ,    o^      4.    » 

"  Yes,  sir ;  office  corner  Clark  and  Randolph  Streets. 
"  I  will  keep  the  card  and  bear  it  in  mind." 
"  I  have  brought  your  change,  sir,"  said  Luke. 
"  You  can  come  upstairs  and  pay  it  to  me  m  the  office. 
It  will  be  more  business-like."  ,       -,  i  j 

Luke  was  glad  to  accept  the  invitation,  for  i*  w^ould 
prove  to  the  skeptical  office  clerks  that  he  really  had  busi- 
ness with  their  employer.  . 

Eustis  Clark  and  his  uncle  could  not  conceal  tkeir  sur- 
prise when  they  saw  Luke  follow  Mr.  Afton  into  the  office 
There  was  a  smaller  room  inclosed  at  one  corner,  which 
was  especially  reserved  for  Mr.  Afton. 
"  Come  here,  Luke,"  said  he,  pleasantly. 
Luke  followed  him  inside.  -,     .     ^      •   1 4. 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  four  dollars  and  nmety-eight 
cents,  anei  laid  it  on  the  table  behind  which  his  patron  had 

taken  a  seat.  ./.-.•      •   t,+  p  ??  i 

"  Won't  you  please  count  it  and  see  if  it  is  rigM.      ne 

"  I  can  see  that  it  is,  Luke.  I  am  afraid  I  have  put  you 
to  more  trouble  than  the  profit  on  the  two  papers  I  bought 

would  pay  for,"  j.  u     • 

"  Not  at  all,  sir.  Besides,  it's  all  m  the  way ^  of  busi- 
ness.    I  thank  you  for  putting  confidence  in  me." 


Mr.  Afton's  Office  27 

*'  I  thought  I  was  not  mistaken  in  you,  and  the  result 
shows  that  I  was  right.  My  boy,  I  saw  that  you  had  an 
honest  face.  I  am  sure  that  the  thought  of  keeping  back 
the  money  never  entered  your  head." 

"  No,  sir,  it  did  not,  though  one  of  the  newsboys  advised 
me  to  keep  it." 

"  It  would  have  been  very  shortsighted  as  a  matter  of 
poHcy.      I  will  take  this  money,  but  I  want  to  encourage 
1  you  in  the  way  of  well-doing." 

:       He  drew  from  his  vest  pocket  a  bill,  and  extended  it  to 
I  Luke. 

j       "  It  isn't  meant  as  a  reward  for  honesty,  but  only  as  a 
[  mark  of  the  interest  I  have  begun  to  feel  in  you." 
I       "  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Luke ;  and  as  he  took  the  bill, 
1  he  started  in  surprise,  for  it  was  ten  dollars. 
*'  Did  you  mean  to  give  as  much  as  this  ?  " 
*'  How  much  is  it .''  " 
"  Ten  dollars." 

"  I  thought  it  was  five,  but  I  am  glad  it  is  more.  Yes, 
Luke,  you  are  welcome  to  it.  Have  you  anyone  dependent 
upon  you  ?  " 

"  My  mother.     She  wiU  be  very  much  pleased." 
"  That's    right,   my   lad.     Always    look   out    for   your 
mother.     You    owe    her    a    debt    which    you    can    never 
repay." 

"  That  is  true,  sir.     But  I  would  hke  to  use  a  part  of 
this  money  for  some  one  else." 
"  For  yourself?  " 
"  No ;  for  a  friend." 

Then  he  told  in  simple  language  of  Jim  Norman,  and 
how  seriously  his  family  was  affected  by  his  sickness  and 
enforced  idleness. 
I  "  Jim  has  no  money  to  buy  medicine,"  he  concluded. 
i  *'  If  you  don't  object,  Mr.  Afton,  I  will  give  Jim's  mother 
I  half  this  money,  after  buying  some  cough  medicine  out 
I   of  it." 

[        The  merchant  listened  with  approval. 
;        **  I  am  glad,  Luke,  you  feel  for  others,"  he  said,  "  but  I 
ican  better  afford  to  help  your  friend  than  you.     Here  is 


28  A  Strange  Encounter 

a  five-dollar  bill.     Tell  the  boy  it  is  from  a  friend,  and  if 
he  should  need  more  let  me  know." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Luke,  fairly  radiant  as  he 
thought  of  Jim's  delight.  "  I  won't  take  up  any  more  of 
your  time,  but  will  bid  you  good-morning." 

Probably  Mr.  Afton  wished  to  give  his  clerks  a  lesson, 
for  he  followed  Luke  to  the  door  of  the  outer  office,  and 
shook  hands  cordially  with  him,  saying :  "  I  shall  be  glad 
to  have  you  call,  when  you  wish  to  see  me,  Luke ;  "  adding, 
"  I  may  possibly  have  some  occasional  work  for  you  to 
do.    If  so,  I  know  where  to  find  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

"  What's  got  into  the  old  man  ?  "  thought  Eustis  Clark. 

As  Mr.  Afton  returned  to  his  sanctum,  Eustis  said  with 
a  grin,  holding  up  the  card: 

"  Mr.  Walton  left  his  card  for  you,  thinking  you  might 
not  be  in  time  to  see  him." 

"  Give  it  to  me,  if  you  please,"  and  the  rich  man  took 
the  card  without  a  smile,  and  put  it  into  his  vest  pockety 
not  seeming  in  the  least  surprised. 

"  Mr.  Walton  called  to  pay  me  some  money,"  he  said, 
gravely.  "  Whenever  he  calls  invite  him  to  wait  till  my 
return." 

CHAPTER    Vn 

A    STRANGE    ENCOUNTER 

Luke  went  home  that  evening  in  high  spirits.  The  gift 
he  had  received  from  Mr.  Afton  enabled  him  to  carry  out 
a  plan  he  had  long  desired  to  realize.  It  was  to  secure  a 
sewing  machine  for  his  mother,  and  thus  increase  her  earn- 
ings while  diminishing  her  labors.  He  stopped  at  an 
establishment  not  far  from  Clark  Street,  and  entering 
the  showroom,  asked :  "  What  is  the  price  of  your  sewing 
machines  ?  " 

"  One  in  a  plain  case  will  cost  you  twenty-five  dollars." 

"  Please  show  me  one." 

"  Do  you  want  it  for  your  wife  ?  " 

"  She  may  use  it  some  time.  My  mother  will  use  it 
first." 


A  Strange  Encounter  29 

The  salesman  pointed  out  an  instrument  with  which 
Luke  was  well  pleased. 

"  Would  you  Kke  to  see  how  it  works?  " 

"  Yes,  please." 

*'  Miss  Morris,  please  show  this  young  man  how  to 
operate  the  machine." 

In  the  course  of  ten  minutes  Luke  got  a  fair  idea  of  the 
method  of  operating. 

"  Do  you  require  the  whole  amount  down  ? "  asked 
Luke. 

"  No ;  we  sell  on  installments,  if  preferred." 

"  What  are  your  terms  ?  " 

"  Five  dollars  first  payment,  and  then  a  doUar  a  week, 
with  interest  on  the  balance  till  paid." 

"  Then  I  think  I  will  engage  one,"  Luke  decided. 

"  Very  well !  Come  up  to  the  desk,  and  give  me  your 
name  and  address.  On  payment  of  five  dollars,  we  will 
give  you  a  receipt  on  account,  specifying  the  terms  of 
paying  the  balance,  etc." 

Luke  transacted  his  business,  and  made  arrangements  to 
have  the  machine  delivered  any  time  after  six  o'clock, 
when  he  knew  he  would  be  at  home. 

As  Luke  was  coming  out  of  the  sewing-machine  office 
he  saw  Tom  Brooks  just  passing.  Tom  looked  a  little 
uneasy,  not  feeling  certain  whether  Luke  had  recognized 
him  as  one  of  his  assailants  or  not  the  evening  previous. 

Luke  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to  be  angry.  Indeed,  he 
had  it  in  his  power  to  have  Tom  arrested,  and  charged 
with  a  very  serious  crime — that  of  highway  robbery.  But 
his  good  luck  made  him  good-natured. 

"  Good-evening,  Tom,"  he  said.  "  I  didn't  see  you  sell- 
ing papers  to-day." 

"  No ;  I  was  on  Dearborn  Street." 

"  He  doesn't  know  it  was  me,"  thought  Tom,  congratu- 
lating himself,  and  added :  "  Have  you  been  buying  a 
sewing  machine  ?  " 

This  was  said  in  a  joke. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Luke,  considerably  to  Tom's  surprise. 
"  I  have  bought  one." 

3  KK 


'30  A  Strange  Encounter  ^\ 

"  How  much?  " 

"  Twenty-five  dollars." 

"  Where  did  you  raise  twenty-five  dollars  ?  You're 
foohn'." 

"  I  bought  it  on  the  installment  plan — ^five  dollars  down." 

"  Oho ! "  said  Tom,  nodding  significantly.  "  I  know 
where  you  got  that  money  ?  " 

"Where  did  I.?" 

"  From  the  gentleman  that  bought  a  couple  of  papers 
yesterday."' 

"  You  hit  it  right  the  first  time." 

"  I  thought  you  weren't  no  better  than  the  rest  of  us — 
you  that  pretended  to  be  so  extra  honest." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Tom  Brooks  ?  " 

"  You  pretended  that  you  were  going  to  give  back  the 
man's  change,  and  spent  it,  after  all.  I  thought  you 
weren't  such  a  saint  as  you  pretended  to  be." 

"  I  see  you  keep  on  judging  me  by  yourself,  Tom 
Brooks.  I  took  round  the  money  this  morning,  and  he 
gave  it  to  me." 

"Is  that  true.?" 

"  Yes ;  I  generally  tell  the  truth." 

"  Then  you're  lucky.  If  I'd  returned  it,  he  wouldn't 
have  given  me  a  cent." 

"  It's  best  to  be  honest  on  all  occasions,"  said  Luke, 
looking  significantly  at  Tom,  who  colored  up,  for  he  now 
saw  that  he  had  been  recognized  the  night  before. 

Tom  sneaked  off  on  some  pretext,  and  Luke  kept  on 
his  way  home. 

"  Did  you  do  well  to-day,  Luke.?  "  asked  Bennie., 

"  Yes,  Bennie ;  very  well." 

*'  How  much  did  you  make.?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  by  and  by.  Mother,  can  I  help  you  about 
the  supper  ?  " 

"  You  may  toast  the  bread,  Luke.  I  am  going  to  have 
your  favorite  dish — ^milk  toast." 

'^^  All  right,  mother.    Have  you  been  sewing  to-day  ?  " 

^^^  Yes,  Luke.  I  sat  so  long  in  one  position  that  I  got 
cramped." 


A  Strange  Encounter  31 

**  I  wish  you  had  a  sewing  machine." 

"  So  do  I,  Luke ;  but  I  must  be  patient.  A  sewing  ma- 
chine costs  more  money  than  we  can  afford." 

"  One  can  be  got  for  twenty-five  dollars,  I  have  heard." 

"  That  is  a  good  deal  of  money  for  people  in  our  posi- 
tion." 

"  We  may  as  well  hope  for  one.  I  shouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  we  were  able  to  buy  a  sewing  machine  very  soon." 

Meanwhile  Luke  finished  toasting  the  bread  and  his 
mother  was  dipping  it  in  milk  when  a  step  was  heard  on 
the  stairway,  the  door  was  opened,  and  Nancy's  red  head 
was  thrust  into  the  room. 

"  Please,  Mrs.  Walton,"  said  Nancy,  breathlessly, 
"  there's  a  man  downstairs  with  a  sewing  machine  which 
he  says  is  for  you." 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,  Nancy.  I  haven't  or- 
dered any  sewing  machine." 

"  Shall  I  send  him  oif ,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  No,  Nancy,"  said  Luke ;  "  it's  all  right.  I'll  go  down- 
stairs and  help  him  bring  it  up." 

"  How  is  this,  Luke  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Walton,  bewildered. 

"  I'll  explain  afterwards,  mother." 

Up  the  stairs  and,  into  the  room  came  the  sewing  ma- 
chine, and  was  set  down  near  the  window.  Bennie  sur- 
veyed it  with  wonder  and  admiration. 

When  the  man  who  brought  it  was  gone,  Luke  explained 
to  his  mother  how  it  had  all  come  about. 

"  You  see,  mother,  you  didn't  have  to  wait  long,"  he 
concluded. 

"  I  feel  deeply  thankful,  Luke,"  said  Mrs.  Walton.  "  I 
can  do  three  times  the  work  I  have  been  accustomed  to  do, 
and  in  much  less  time.  This  Mr.  Afton  must  be  a  kind 
and  charitable  man." 

"  I  like  him  better  than  his  clerks,"  said  Luke.  "  There 
is  a  red-headed  bookkeeper  and  a  boy  there  who  tried  to 
snub  me,  and  keep  me  out  of  the  office.  I  try  to  think  well 
of  red-headed  people  on  accoimt  of  Nancy,  but  I  can't 
say  I  admire  them." 

After  supper  Luke  gave  his  mother  a  lesson  in  operating 


32 


A  Marked  Man 


the  machine.  Both  found  that  it  required  a  little  prac- 
tice. 

The  next  morning  as  Luke  was  standing  at  his  usual 
corner,  he  had  a  surprise. 

A  gentleman  came  out  of  the  Sherman  House  and  walked 
slowly  up  Clark  Street.  As  he  passed  Luke,  he  stopped 
and  asked,  "  Boy,  have  you  the  Inter-Ocecm?  " 

Luke  looked  up  in  his  customer's  face.  He  paused  in 
the  greatest  excitement. 

The  man  was  on  the  shady  side  of  fifty,  nearly  six  feet 
in  height,  with  a  dark  complexion,  hair  tinged  with  gray, 
and  a  wart  on  the  upper  part  of  his  right  cheek! 

CHAPTER    VIII 

A   MARKED    MAN 

At  last,  so  Luke  verily  believed,  he  stood  face  to  face 
with  the  man  who  had  deceived  his  dying  father,  and  de- 
frauded his  mother  and  himself  of  a  sum  which  would 
wholly  change  their  positions  and  prospects.  But  he 
wanted  to  know  positively,  and  he  could  not  think  of  a 
way  to  acquire  this  knowledge. 

Meanwhile  the  gentleman  noticed  the  boy's  scrutiny, 
and  it  did  not  please  him. 

"  Well,  boy ! '"  he  said  gruffly,  *'  you  seem  determined 
to  know  me  again.  You  stare  hard  enough.  Let  me  tell 
you  this  is  not  good  manners." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Luke,  "  but  your  face  looked  famil- 
iar to  me.    I  thought  I  had  seen  you  before." 

"  Very  likely  you  have.  I  come  to  Chicago  frequently, 
and  generally  stop  at  the  Sherman  House." 

"  Probably  that  explains  it,"  said  Luke.  "  Are  you  not 
Mr.  Thomas,  of  St.  Louis?  " 

The  gentleman  laughed. 

"  You  will  have  to  try  again,"  he  said.  "  I  am  Mr. 
Browning,  of  Milwaukee.     Thomas  is  my  first  name." 

"  Browning !  "  thought  Luke,  disappointed.  "  Evi- 
dently I  am  on  the  wrong  track.  And  yet  he  answers 
father's  description  exactly." 


A  Marked  Man  33 

**  I  don't  know  anyone  in  Milwaukee,"  he  said  aloud. 

"  Then  it  appears  we  can't  claim  acquaintance." 

The  gentleman  took  his  paper  and  turned  down  Ran- 
dolph Street  toward  State. 

"  Strange !  "  he  soliloquized,  "  that  boy's  interest  in  my 
personal  appearance.  I  wonder  if  there  can  be  a  St. 
Louis  man  who  resembles  me.  If  so,  he  can't  be  a  very 
good-looking  man.  This  miserable  wart  ought  to  be 
enough  to  distinguish  me  from  anyone  else." 

He  paused  a  minute,  and  then  a  new  thought  came  into 
his  mind. 

"  There  is  something  familiar  in  that  boy's  face.  I 
wonder  who  he  can  be.  I  wiU  buy  my  evening  papers  of 
him,  and  take  that  opportunity  to  inquire." 

Meanwhile  Luke,  to  satisfy  a  doubt  in  his  mind,  entered 
the  hotel,  and,  going  up  to  the  office,  looked  over  the  list 
of  arrivals.  He  had  to  turn  back  a  couple  of  pages  and 
foimd  this  entry: 

"  Thomas  Browning,  Milwaukee." 

*'  His  name  is  Browning,  and  he  does  come  from  Mil- 
waukee," he  said  to  himself.  "  I  thought,  perhaps,  he 
might  have  given  me  a  false  name,  though  he  could  have 
no  reason  for  doing  so." 

Luke  felt  that  he  must  look  farther  for  the  man  who 
had  betrayed  his  father's  confidence. 

"  I  didn't  think  there  could  be  two  men  of  such  a  pecu- 
liar appearance,"  he  reflected.  *'  Surely  there  can't  be 
three.  If  I  meet  another  who  answers  the  description  I 
shall  be  convinced  that  he  is  the  man  I  am  after." 

In  the  afternoon  the  same  man  approached  Luke,  as 
he  stood  on  his  accustomed  corner. 

"  You  may  give  me  the  Mail  and  Journal,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  here  they  are.     Three,  cents." 

"  I  believe  you  are  the  boy  who  recognized  me,  or 
thought  you  did,  this  morning." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  If  you  ever  run  across  this  Mr.  Thomas,  of  St.  Louis, 
present  him  my  compliments,  will  you?  " 


34  A  Marked  Man 

*'  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Luke,  with  a  smile. 

"  By  the  way,  what  is  your  name?  " 

"  Luke  Walton." 

The  gentleman  started. 

**  Luke  Walton !  "  he  repeated,  slowly,  eying  the  news- 
boy with  a  still  closer  scrutiny. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  It's  a  new  name  to  me.  Can't  your  father  find  a  better 
business  for  you  than  selling  papers  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  dead,  sir." 

"  Dead !  "  repeated  Browning,  slowly.  "  That  is  un- 
fortunate for  you.    How  long  has  he  been  dead  ?  " 

"  About  two  years." 

"  What  did  he  die  of?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,  exactly.  He  died  away  from  home 
' — in  California." 

There  was  a  strange  look,  difficult  to  read,  on  the  gen- 
tleman's face. 

"  That  is  a  long  way  off,"  he  said.  "  I  have  always 
thought  I  should  like  to  visit  California.  When  my  busi- 
ness will  permit  I  will  take  a  trip  out  that  way." 

Here  was  another  difference  between  Mr.  Browning  and 
the  man  of  whom  Luke's  father  had  written.  The  stranger 
had  never  been  in  California. 

Browning  handed  Luke  a  silver  quarter  in  payment  for 
the  papers. 

"  Never  mind  about  the  change,"  he  said,  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  sir.     You  are  very  kind." 

"  This  must  be  the  son  of  my  old  California  friend,'* 
Browning  said  to  himself.  "  Can  he  have  heard  of  the 
money  intrusted  to  me  ?  I  don't  think  it  possible,  for  I  left 
Walton  on  the  verge  of  death.  That  money  has  made  my 
fortune.  I  invested  it  in  land  which  has  more  than  quad- 
rupled in  value.  Old  women  say  that  honesty  pays,"  he 
added,  with  a  sneer ;  "  but  it  is  nonsense.  In  this  case  dis- 
honesty has  paid  me  richly.  If  the  boy  has  heard  any- 
thing, it  is  lucky  that  I  changed  my  name  to  Browning 
out  of  deference  to  my  wife's  aunt,  in  return  for  a  beg- 


A  Marked  Man  35 

garly  three  thousand  dollars.  I  have  made  it  up  to  ten 
thousand  dollars  by  judicious  investment.  My  young 
newsboy  acquaintance  will  find  it  hard  to  identify  me  with 
the  ,  Thomas  Butler  who  took  charge  of  his  father's 
money." 

If  Browning  had  been  posssessed  of  a  conscience  it 
might  have  troubled  him  when  he  was  brought  face  to  face 
with  one  of  the  sufferers  from  his  crime ;  but  he  was  a  hard, 
selfish  man,  to  whom  his  own  interests  were  of  supreme 
importance. 

But  something  happened  within  an  hour  which  gave  him 
a  feeling  of  anxiety. 

He  was  just  coming  out  of  the  Chicago  post-office,  at 
the  corner  of  Adams  and  Clark  Streets,  when  a  hand  was 
laid  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  How  are  you,  Butler  ?  "  said  a  tall  man,  wearing  a 
Mexican  sombrero.  "  I  haven't  set  eyes  upon  you  since 
we  were  together  at  Gold  Gulch,  in  California." 

Browning  looked  about  him  apprehensively.  Fortun- 
ately he  was  some  distance  from  the  corner  where  Luke 
Walton  was  selling  papers. 

"  I  am  well,  thank  you,"  he  said. 

"  Are  you  living  in  Chicago  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  live  in  Wisconsin." 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  the  man  you  used  to  be 
with  so  much — ^Walton  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  died." 

"  Did  he,  indeed  ?  Well,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  He 
was  a  good  fellow.    Did  he  leave  anything.'' " 

"  I  am  afraid  not." 

"  I  thought  he  struck  it  rich." 

"  So  he  did ;  but  he  lost  all  he  made." 

"How  was  that?" 

"  Poor  investments,  I  fancy." 

"  I  remember  he  told  me  one  day  that  he  had  scraped 
together  seven  or  eight  thousand  dollars." 

Browning  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  think  that  was  a 
mistake,"  he  said.  "  Walton  liked  to  put  his  best  foot 
foremost." 


36  Stephen  Webb 

"  You  think,  then,  he  misrepresented  ?  *' 

"  I  think  he  would  have  found  it  hard  to  find  the  sum 
you  mention." 

"  You  surprise  me,  Butler.  I  always  looked  upon  Wal- 
ton as  a  singularly  reliable  man." 

"  So  he  was — in  most  things.  But  let  me  correct  you 
on  one  point.     You  call  me  Butler  ?  "  , 

"  Isn't  that  your  name  ?  " 

"  It  was,  but  i  bad  a  reason — a,  good,  substantial,  pe- 
cuniary reason — ^for  changing  it.  I  am  now  Thomas 
Browning." 

*'  Say  you  so  ?     Are  you  engaged  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Yes,  unfortunately." 

**  I  was  about  to  invite  you  to  some  theater." 

*'  Another  time — thanks." 

"  I  must  steer  clear  of  that  man,"  thought  Browning. 
**  I  won't  meet  him  again,  if  I  can  help  it." 

CHAPTER    IX 

STEPHEN    WEBB 

The  more  Browning  thought  of  the  newsboy  in  whom 
he  had  so  strangely  recognized  the  son  of  the  man  whom 
he  had  so  cruelly  wronged,  the  more  uneasy  he  felt. 

"  He  has  evidently  heard  of  me,"  he  soliloquized.  "  His 
father  could  not  have  been  so  near  death  as  I  supposed. 
He  must  have  sent  the  boy  or  his  mother  a  message  about 
that  money.  If  it  should  come  to  his  knowledge  that  I 
am  the  Thomas  Butler  to  whom  his  father  confided  ten 
thousand  dollars  which  I  have  failed  to  hand  over  to  the 
family,  he  may  make  it  very  disagreeable  for  me." 

The  fact  that  so  many  persons  were  able  to  identify 
him  as  Thomas  Butler  made  the  danger  more  inuninent. 

"  I  must  take  some  steps — ^but  what  ?  "  Browning  asked 
himself. 

He  kept  on  walking  till  he  found  himself  passing  the 
entrance  of  a  low  poolroom.  He  never  played  pool,  nor 
would  it  have  suited  a  man  of  his  social  position  to  enter 
such  a  place,  but  that  he  caught  sight  of  a  young  man, 


Stephen  Webb  37 

whose  face  and  figure  were  familiar  to  him,  in  the  act  of 
going  into  it.  He  quickened  his  pace,  and  laid  a  hand  on 
the  yoimg  man's  shoulder. 

The  latter  turned  quickly,  revealing  a  face  bearing  the 
unmistakable  marks  of  dissipation. 

"Uncle  Thomas!"  he  exclaimed,  apparently  ill  at 
ease. 

"  Yes,  Stephen,  it  is  I.  Where  are  you  going?  "  The 
young  man  hesitated. 

"  You  need  not  answer.  I  see  you  are  wedded  to  your 
old  amusements.  Are  you  still  in  the  place  I  got  for 
you,?  " 

Stephen  Webb  looked  uneasy  and  shamefaced. 
*'  I  have  lost  my  place,"  he  answered,  after  a  pause. 
*'  How  does  it  happen  that  you  lost  it?  " 
"  I  don't  know.    Some  one  must  have  prejudiced  my  em- 
ployer against  me." 

"  It  is  your  own  habits  that  have  prejudiced  him,  I 
make  no  doubt.'" 

This  was  true.  One  morning  Stephen,  whose  besetting 
sin  was  intemperance,  appeared  at  the  office  where  he  was 
employed  in  such  a  state  of  intoxication  that  he  was  sum- 
marily discharged.  It  may  be  explained  that  he  was  a  son 
of  Mr.  Browning's  only  sister. 

"When  were  you  discharged?  "  asked  his  uncle. 
"  Last  week." 

"  And  have  you  tried  to  get  another  situation?  " 
"  Yes." 

"  What  are  your  prospects  of  success  ?  " 
"  There  seem  to  be  very  few  openings  just  now.  Uncle 
;   Thomas." 

"The  greater  reason  why  you  should  have  kept  the 
place  I  obtained  for  you.  Were  you  going  to  play  pool 
in  this  low  place  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  look  on.  A  man  must  have  some  amuse- 
ment," said  Stephen,  sullenly. 

"  Amusement  is  all  you  think  of.     However,  it  so  hap- 
pens that  I  have  something  that  I  wish  you  to  do." 
Stephen  regarded  his  uncle  in  surprise. 


38  Stephen  Webb 

"  Are  you  going  to  open  an  office  in  Chicago  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No ;  the  service  is  of  a  different  nature.  It  is — secret 
and  confidential.  It  is,  I  may  say,  something  in  the  de- 
tective line." 

"  Then  I'm  your  man,"  said  his  nephew,  brightening 

"  The  service  is  simple,  so  that  you  will  probably  be 
qualified  to  do  what  I  require." 

"  I've  read  lots  of  detective  stories,"  said  Stephen, 
eagerly.     "  It's  just  the  work  I  should  like." 

"  Humph !  I  don't  think  much  is  to  be  learned  from 
detective  stories.  You  will  understand,  of  course,  that  you 
are  not  to  let  anyone  know  you  are  acting  for  me." 

"  Certainly.    You  will  find  that  I  can  keep  a  secret." 

"  I  leave  Chicago  to-morrow  morning,  and  will  give  you 
directions  before  I  go.  Where  can  we  have  a  private  con- 
ference.'' " 

"  Here  is  an  oyster  house.    We  shall  be  quiet  here." 

"  Very  well !     We  will  go  in." 

They  entered  a  small  room,  with  a  sanded  floor,  pro- 
vided with  a  few  unpainted  tables. 

Stephen  and  his  uncle  went  to  the  back  of  the  room,  and 
seated  themselves  at  the  rear  table. 

"  We  must  order  something,"  suggested  Stephen. 

*'  Get  what  you  please,"  said  Browning,  indifferently. 

"  Two  stews !  "  ordered  Stephen.  "  We  can  talk  while 
they  are  getting  them  ready." 

*'  Very  well !  Now,  for  my  instructions.  At  the  comer 
of  Clark  and  Randolph  Streets  every  morning  and  evening 
you  will  find  a  newsboy  selling  papers." 

"  A  dozen,  you  mean." 

"  True,  but  I  am  going  to  describe  this  boy  so  that  you 
may  know  him.  He  is  about  fifteen,  I  should  judge,  neatly 
dressed,  and  would  be  considered  good-looking." 

"  Do  you  know  his  name?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  Luke  Walton." 

**  Is  he  the  one  I  am  to  watch?  " 

*'  You  are  to  make  his  acquaintance,  and  find  out  all 
you  can  about  his  circumstances." 


/  Stephen  Webb  39 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  lives  ?  " 

"  No;  that  is  one  of  the  things  you  are  to  find  out  for 
me." 

"  What  else  do  you  want  me  to  find  out  ?  " 

"  Find  out  how  many  there  are  in  family,  also  how  they 
live;  whether  they  have  anything  to  live  on  except  what 
this  newsboy  earns." 

"  All  right,  Uncle  Thomas.  You  seem  to  have  a  great 
deal  of  interest  in  this  boy." 

"  That  is  my  business,"  said  Browning,  curtly.  "  If 
you  wish  to  work  for  me,  you  must  not  show  too  much 
curiosity.  Never,  mind  what  my  motives  are.  Do  you 
understand,''  " 

"  Certainly,  Uncle  Thomas.  It  shall  be  as  you  say. 
I  suppose  I  am  to  be  paid?  " 

"  Yes.  How  much  salary  did  you  receive  where  you 
were  last  employed?  "  ^ 

"  Ten  dollars  a  week." 

*'  You  shall  receive  this  sum  for  the  present.    It  is  very 
good  pay  for  the  small  service  required  of  you." 
,      "  All  right,  uncle." 

The  stews  were  ready  by  this  time.  They  were  brought 
and  set  before  Stephen  and  his  uncle.  The  latter  toyed 
with  his  spoon,  only  taking  a  taste  or  two,  but  Stephen 
showed  much  more  appreciation  of  the  dish,  not  being  ac- 
customed, like  his  uncle,  to  dining  at  first-class  hotels. 

"  How  am  I  to  let  you  know  what  I  find  out  ?  "  asked 
Stephen. 

"  Write  me  at  Milwaukee.  I  wiU  send  you  further 
instructions  from  there." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  you  are  never  to  mention  me  to  this 
Luke  Walton.    I  have  my  reasons." 

"  I  will  do  just  as  you  say." 

"  How  is  your  mother,  Stephen  ?  " 

"  About  the  same.  She  isn't  a  very  cheerful  party,  you 
know.     She  is  always  fretting." 

"  Has  she  any  lodgers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  three,  but  one  is  a  little  irregular  with  his  rent." 


40  Stephen  Webb  Obtains  Some  Information 

"  Of  course,  I  expect  that  you  will  hand  your  mother 
half  the  weekly  sum  I  pay  you.  She  has  a  right  to  expect 
that  much  help  from  her  son." 

Stephen  assented,  but  not  with  alacrity,  and  as  he  had 
now  disposed  of  the  stew,  the  two  rose  from  their  seats 
and  went  outside.  A  few  words  of  final  instructions,  and 
they  parted. 

"  I  wonder  why  Uncle  Thomas  takes  such  an  interest 
in  that  newsboy,"  thought  Stephen.  "  I  will  make  it  my 
business  to  find  out." 


CHAPTER    X 

STEPHEN    WEBB    OBTAINS    SOME    INFORMATION 

Luke  was  at  his  post  the  following  morning,  and  had 
disposed  of  half  his  papers  when  Stephen  Webb  strolled 
by.  He  walked  past  Luke,  and  then,  as  if  it  was  an  after- 
thought, turned  back,  and  addressed  him. 

"  Have  you  a  morning  Tribune?  "  he  asked. 

Luke  produced  it. 

**  How's  business  to-day  ?  "  asked  Stephen  in  an  offhand 
manner. 

"  Pretty  fair,"  answered  Luke,  for  the  first  time  taking 
notice  of  the  inquirer,  who  did  not  impress  him  very 
favorably. 

"  I  have  often  wondered  how  you  newsboys  make  it 
pay,"  said  Stephen,  in  a  sociable  tone. 

"  We  don't  make  our  fortimes,  as  a  rule,"  answered 
Luke,  smiling,  "  so  I  can't  recommend  you  to  go  into  it." 

*'  I  don't  think  it  would  suit  me.  I  don't  mind  owning 
up  that  I  am  lazy.  But,  then,  I  am  not  obliged  to  work — 
for  the  present,  at  least." 

"  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  live  without  work,"  said  the 
newsboy.  "  But  even  then  I  would  find  something  to  do.  I 
should  not  be  happy  if  I  were  idle." 

"  I  am  not  wholly  without  work,"  said  Stephen.  "  My 
uncle,  who  lives  at  a  distance,  occasionally  sends  to  me  to 
do  something  for  him.     I  have  to  hold  myself  subject  to 


Stephen  Webb  Obtains  Som©^  Information  41 

his  orders.  In  the  meantime  I  get  an  income  from  him. 
How  long  have  you  been  a  newsboy  ?  " 

"  Nearly  two  years." 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  Why  don't  you  get  a  place  in  a  store 
or  an  office?  " 

"  I  should  like  to,  if  I  could  make  enough ;  but  boys  get 
very  small  salaries." 

"  I  was  about  to  offer  to  look  for  a  place  for  you.  I 
know  some  men  in  business." 

"  Thank  you !  You  are  very  kind,  considering  that  we 
are  strangers." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  can  judge  of  you  by  your  looks.  I 
shouldn't  be  afraid  to  recommend  you." 

"  Thank  you !  "  he  repKed ;  "  but  unless  you  can  offer 
me  as  much  as  five  dollars  a  week,  I  should  feel  obliged  to 
keep  on  selling  papers.  I  not  only  have  myself  to  look 
out  for,  but  a  mother  and  little  brother." 

Stephen  nodded  to  himself  complacently.  It  was  the 
very  information  of  which  he  was  in  search. 

"  Then  your  father  isn't  living.?  "  he  said. 

"  No.    He  died  in  California." 

"  Uncle  Thomas  made  his  money  in  California,"  Stephen 
said  to  himself.  "  I  wonder  if  he  knew  this  newsboy's 
father." 

"  Five  dollars  is  little  enough  for  three  persons  to  live 
upon,"  he  went  on,  in  a  sympathetic  manner. 

"  Mother  earns  something  by  sewing,"  Luke  answered, 
unsuspiciously ;  "  but  it  takes  all  we  can  make  to  support 
us." 

"  Then  they  can't  have  any  other  resources,"  thought 
Stephen.     "  I  am  getting  on  famously." 

"  Well,  good-morning,  Luke !  "  he  said.  "  I'll  see  you 
later." 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name  ?  "  asked  Luke,  in  surprise. 

"  I'm  an  idiot !  "  thought  Stephen.  "  I  ought  to  have 
appeared  ignorant  of  his  name.  I  have  seen  you  before 
to-day,"  he  replied,  taking  a  little  time  to  think.  "  I 
heard  one  of  the  other  newsboys  calling  you  by  name.  I 
don't  pretend  to  be  a  magician." 


42  Stephen  Webb  Obtains  Some  Information 

This  explanation  satisfied  Luke.  It  appeared  very 
natural. 

"  I  have  a  great  memorj  for  names,"  proceeded  Stephen. 
"  That  reminds  me  that  I  have  not  told  you  mine — I  am 
Stephen  Webb,  at  your  service." 

"  I  will  remember  it." 

"Have  a  cigarette,  Luke?"  added  Stephen,  producing 
a  packet  from  his  pocket." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  don't  smoke." 

"  Don't  smoke,  and  you  a  newsboy !  I  thought  all  of 
you  smoked." 

"  Most  of  us  do,  but  I  promised  my  mother  I  wouldn't 
smoke  till  I  was  twenty-one." 

"  Then  I'm  old  enough  to  smoke.  I've  smoked  ever 
since  I  was  twelve  years  old — well,  good  morning !  " 

"  That'll  do  for  one  day,"  thought  Stephen  Webb. 

It  was  three  days  before  Stephen  Webb  called  again  ~ 
on  his  new  acquaintance.  He  did  not  wish  Luke  to  sus- 
pect anything,  he  said  to  himself.  Really,  however,  he 
found  other  things  to  take  up  his  attention.  At  the  rate 
his  money  was  going  it  seemed  very  doubtful  whether  he 
would  be  able  to  give  his  mother  any  part  of  his  salary, 
as  suggested  by  his  uncle. 

"  Hang  it  all ! "  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  noted  his  rap- 
idly diminishing  hoard.  "  Why  can't  my  uncle  open  his 
heart  and  give  me  more  than  ten  dollars  a  week?  Fifteen 
dollars  wouldn't  be  any  too  much,  and  to  him  it  would  be 
nothing — positively  nothing." 

On  the  second  evening  Luke  went  home  late.  It  had 
been  a  poor  day  for  him,  and  his  receipts  were  less  than 
usual,  though  he  had  been  out  more  hours.  , 

When  he  entered  the  house,  however,  he  assumed  a  cheer- 
ful look,  for  he  never  wished  to  depress  his  mother's  spirits. 

"  You  are  late,  Luke,"  said  Mrs.  Walton ;  "  but  I  have 
kept  your  supper  warm." 

"  What  makes  you   so  late,  Luke  ?  "  asked  Bennie. 

"  The  papers  went  slow,  Bennie.  They  will,  sometimes. 
There's  no  very  important  news  just  now.  I  suppose  that 
explains  it." 


Stephen  Webb  Obtains  Some  Information  43 

After  a  while  Luke  thought  he  noticed  that  his  mother 
looked  more  serious  than  usual. 

"  What's  the  matter,  mother?  "  he  asked.  "  Have  you 
a  headache  ?  " 

"  No,  Luke.  I  am  perfectly  well,  but  I  am  feeling  a 
little  anxious." 

"  About  what,  mother  ?  " 

"  I  went  around  this  afternoon  to  take  half  a  dozen 
shirts  that  I  had  completed,  and  asked  for  more.  They 
told  me  they  had  no  more  for  me  at  present,  and  they 
didn't  know  when  I  could  have  any  more." 

This  was  bad  news,  for  Luke  knew  that  he  alone  did 
not  earn  enough  to  support  the  family.  However,  he 
answered  cheerfully :  "  Don't  be  anxious,  mother !  There 
are  plenty  of  other  establishments  in  Chicago  besides  the 
one  you  have  been  working  for." 

"  That  is  true,  Luke ;  but  I  don't  know  whether  that 
will  help  me.  I  stopped  at  two  places  after  leaving  Gus- 
set &  Co.'s,  and  was  told  that  their  list  was  full." 

"  Well,  mother,  don't  let  us  think  of  it  to-night !  To- 
morrow we  can  try  again." 

Luke's  cheerfulness  had  its  effect  on  his  mother,  and  the 
evening  was  passed  socially. 

The  next  morning  Luke  went  out  to  work  at  the  usual 
time.  He  had  all  his  papers  sold  out  by  half-past  ten 
o'clock,  and  walked  over  to  State  Street,  partly  to  fill  up 
the  time,  and  partly  in  search  of  some  stray  job.  He  was 
standing  in  front  of  the  Bee  Hive,  a  well-known  drygoods 
store  on  State  Street,  when  his  attention  was  called  to 
an  old  lady,  who,  in  attempting  to  cross  the  street,  had 
imprudently  placed  herself  just  in  the  track  of  a  rapidly 
advancing  cable  car.  Becoming  sensible  of  her  danger, 
the  old  lady  uttered  a  terrified  cry,  but  was  too  panic- 
stricken  to  move. 

On  came  the  car,  with  gong  sounding  out  its  alarm, 
and  a  cry  of  horror  went  up  from  the  bystanders. 

Luke  alone  seemed  to  have  his  wits  about  him. 

He  saw  that  there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose,  and,  gather- 
ing up  his  strength,  dashed  to  the  old  lady's  assistance. 


44    -         A  House  on  Prairie  Avenue 


CHAPTER    XI 

A    HOUSE    QN    PRAIEIE   AVENUE 

The  old  lady  had  just  become  conscious  of  her  peril 
when  Luke  reached  her.  She  was  too  bewildered  to  move> 
and  would  inevitably  have  been  crushed  by  the  approaching 
car  had  not  Luke  seized  her  by  the  arm  and  fairly  dragged 
her  out  of  danger. 

Then,  as  the  car  passed  on,  he  took  oif  his  hat,  and  said, 
apologetically :  "  I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  roughness^ 
madam,  but  I  could  see  no  other  way  of  saving  you." 

"  Please  lead  me  to  the  sidewalk,"  gasped  the  old  lady. 
Luke  complied  with  her  request. 

"I  am  deeply  thankful  to  you,  my  boy,"  she  said,  as 
soon  as  she  found  voice.  "  I  can  see  that  I  was  in  great 
danger.  I  was  busily  tliinking,  or  I  should  not  have  been 
so  careless." 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  was  able  to  help  you,"  responded 
Luke,  as  he  prepared  to  leave  his  new  acquaintance. 

"  Don't  leave  me !  "  said  the  old  lady.  "  My  nerves 
are  so  upset  that  I  don't  like  being  left  alone." 

"  I  am  quite  at  your  service,  madam,"  replied  Luke,  po- 
litely.   "  Shall  I  put  you  on  board  the  cars  ?  " 

"  No,  call  a  carriage,  please." 

This  was  easily  done,  for  they  were  in  front  of  the 
Palmer  House,  where  a  line  of  cabs  may  be  found.  Luke 
called  one,  and  assisted  the  old  lady  inside. 

"  Where  shall  I  tell  the  driver  to  take  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  old  lady  named  a  number  on  Prairie  Avenue,  which 
contains  some  of  the  finest  residences  in  Chicago. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  more  for  you  ?  "  asked  our  hero. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  unexpected  reply.  "  Get  in  yourself,  if 
you  can  spare  the  time." 

"  Certainly,"  assented  Luke. 

He  took  his  seat  beside  the  old  lady. 

"  I  hope  you  have  recovered  from  your  fright,"  he  said, 
politely. 


A  House  on  Prairie  Avenue  45 

*'  Yes,  I  begin  to  feel  myself  again.  Probably  you  won- 
der why  I  have  asked  you  to  accompany  me  ?  " 

"  Probably  because  you  may  need  my  services,"  sug- 
gested Luke. 

"  Not  altogether.  I  shudder  as  I  think  of  the  danger 
from  which  you  rescued  me,  but  I  have  another  object  in 
view." 

Luke  waited  for  her  to  explain.  * 

"  I  want  to  become  better  acquainted  with  you." 

"  Thank  you,  madam." 

"  I  fully  recognize  that  you  have  done  me  a  great  ser- 
vice. Now,  if  I  ask  you  a  fair  question  about  yourself,  you 
won't  think  it  an  old  woman's  curiosity  ?  " 

*'  I  hope  I  should  not  be  so  ill-bred,  madam.*' 

"  Really,  you  are  a  very  nice  boy." 

"  Now,  tell  me  where  you  live .''  " 

"  On  Green  Street." 

"Where  is  that.?" 

**  Only  a  stone's  throw  from  Milwaukee  Avenue." 

"  I  don't  think  I  was  ever  in  that  part  of  the  city." 

"  It  is  not  a  nice  part  of  the  city,  but  we  cannot  afford 
to  live  in  a  better  place." 

"  You  say  '  we.'  Does  that  mean  your  father  and 
mother  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  dead.  Our  family  consists  of  my  mother, 
my  little  brother,  and  myself." 

"  And  you  are — excuse  my  saying  so — ^poor  ?  " 

"  We  are  poor,  but  thus  far  we  have  not  wanted  for 
food  or  shelter." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  employed  in  some  way?  *' 

"  Yes ;  I  sell  papers." 

"  Then  you  are  a  newsboy?  " 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  I  suppose  you  cannot  save  very  much?" 

"  If  I  make  seventy-five  cents  a  day  I  consider  myself 
quite  lucky.     It  is  more  than  I  average." 

"  Surely  you  can't  live  on  that — ^I  mean  the  three  of 
you?" 

"  Mother  earns  something  by  making  shirts ;  at  least, 
4ke 


46  A  House  on  Prairie  Avenue 

she  has  done  so ;  but  yesterday  she  was  told  that  she  would 
not  have  any  more  work  at  present." 

"  And  your  brother — ^he  is  too  young  to  work,  I  sup- 
pose? " 

"  Yes,  madam." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  the  cab  was  mak- 
ing rapid  progress,  and  as  the  last  words  were  spoken  the 
driver  reined  up  in  front  of  a  handsome  residence. 

"  Is  this  the  place,  madam  ?  " 

The  old  lady  looked  out  of  the  hack. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  I  had  no  idea  we  had  got  along 
so  far." 

Luke  helped  her  out  of  the  cab.  She  paid  the  man  his 
fare,  and  then  signed  Luke  to  help  her  up  the  steps. 

"  I  want  you  to  come  into  the  house  with  me,"  she 
said.     "  I  have  not  got  through  talking  with  you." 

A  maidservant  answered  the  bell.  She  looked  surprised 
iwhen  she  saw  the  old  lady's  young  companion. 

*'  Is  my  niece  in  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady. 

"  No,  Mrs.  Merton — Master  Harold  is  in." 

"  Never  mind !  You  may  come  upstairs  with  me,  young 
man." 

Luke  followed  the  old  lady  up  the  broad,  handsome 
staircase,  stealing  a  curious  glance  at  an  elegantly-fur- 
nished drawing-room,  the  door  of  which  opened  into  the 
hall. 

His  companion  led  the  way  into  the  front  room  on  the 
second  floor. 

"  Remain  here  until  I  have  taken  off  my  things,"  she 
said. 

Luke  seated  himself  in  a  luxurious  armchair. 

He  looked  about  him  and  wondered  how  it  would  seem 
to  live  in  such  luxury.  He  had  little  time  for  thought,  for 
in  less  than  five  minutes  Mrs.  Merton  made  her  appearance. 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  your  name,"  she  said. 

«  Luke  Walton." 

**  That's  a  good  name — I  am  Mrs.  Merton." 

**  I  noticed  that  the  servant  called  you  so,"  said  Luke. 

**  Yes ;  I  am  a  widow.    Mv  married  niece  lives  here  with 


A  Plot  That  Failed  47 

me.  She  is  also  a  widow,  with  one  son,  Harold.  I  think 
he  might  be  about  your  age.  Her  name  is  Tracy.  You 
wonder  why  I  give  you  all  these  particulars  ?  I  see  you 
do.    It  is  because  I  mean  to  keep  up  our  acquaintance." 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Merton." 

"  My  experience  this  morning  has  shown  me  that  I  am 
hardly  fit  to  go  about  the  city  alone.  Yet  I  am  not  will- 
ing to  remain  at  home.  It  has  occurred  to  me  that  I  can 
make  use  of  your  services  with  advantage  both  to  you  and 
myself.    What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  glad  of  anything  that  will  increase  my 
income,"  said  Luke,  promptly. 

"  Please  call  here  to-morrow  morning,  and  inquire  for 
me.    I  will  then  tell  you  what  I  require." 

"  Very  well,  Mrs.  Merton.    You  may  depend  upon  me.'* 

"  And  accept  a  week's  pay  in  advance." 

She  put  a  sealed  envelope  into  his  hand.  Luke  took  it, 
and,  with  a  bow,  left  the  room. 

CHAPTER  XII 

A    PLOT    THAT    FATLED 

As  the  distance  was  considerable  to  the  business  part  of 
the  city,  Luke  boarded  a  car  and  rode  downtown.  It 
did  not  occur  to  him  to  open  the  envelope  till  he  was  half- 
way to  the  end  of  his  journey. 

When  he  did  so,  he  was  agreeably  surprised.  The  en- 
velope contained  a  ten-dollar  bill. 

"  Ten  dollars !  Hasn't  Mrs.  Merton  made  a  mistake.?  " 
he  said  to  himself.  "  She  said  it  was  a  week's  pay.  But, 
of  course,  she  wouldn't  pay  ten  dollars  for  the  little  I 
am  to  do." 

Luke  decided  that  the  extra  sum  was  given  him  on  ac- 
count of  the  service  he  had  already  been  fortunate  enough 
to  render  the  old  lady. 

Next  to  him  sat  rather  a  showily  dressed  woman,  witK 
keen,  sharp  eyes.  She  took  notice  of  the  bank-note  which 
Luke  drew  from  the  envelope,  and  prepared  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  knowledge. 


48  A  Plot  That  Failed 

No  sooner  had  Luke  replaced  the  envelope  in  his  pocket 
than  this  woman  put  her  hand  in  hers,  and,  after  a  pre- 
tended search,  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  voice :  "  There  is  a 
pickpocket  in  this  car,     I  have  been  robbed !  " 

Of  course,  this  statement  aroused  the  attention  of  all 
the  passengers. 

*'  What  have  you  lost,  madam  ? "  inquired  an  old 
gentleman. 

"  A  ten-dollar  bill,"  answered  the  woman. 

*'  Was  it  in  your  pocketbook  ?  " 

*'  No,"  she  replied,  glibly.  "  It  was  in  an  envelope. 
It  was  handed  to  me  by  my  sister  just  before  I  left  home." 

As  soon  as  Luke  heard  this  declaration,  he  understood 
i;hat  the  woman  had  laid  a  trap  for  him,  and  he  reahzed 
ihis  imprudence  in  displaying  the  money.  Naturally  he 
looked  excited  and  disturbed.  He  saw  that  in  all  proba- 
bility the  woman's  word  would  be  taken  in  preference  to 
his.  He  might  be  arrested,  and  find  it  difficult  to  prove 
his  innocence. 

*'  Have  you  any  suspicion  as  to  who  took  it  ?  "  asked 
ihe  old  gentleman. 

"  I  think  this  boy  took  it,"  said  the  woman  pointing  to 
Luke. 

"  It's  terrible,  and  he  so  young !  "  said  an  old  lady  with 
a  severe  cast  of  countenance,  who  sat  next  to  the  old 
gentleman.     "What  is  the  world  coming  to?" 

*'  What,  indeed,  ma'am?  "  echoed  the  old  gentleman. 

Luke  felt  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  say  something. 

"  This  lady  is  quite  mistaken,"  he  declared,  pale  but 
resolute.     "  I'm  no  thief." 

"  It  can  easily  be  proved,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  cun- 
ning smile.  "  Let  the  boy  show  the  contents  of  his 
pockets." 

"  Yes,  that  is  only  fair." 

Luke  saw  that  his  difficulties  were  increasing. 

*'  I  admit  that  I  have  a  ten-dollar  bill  in  an  envelope," 
lie  said. 

"  I  told  you  so !  "  said  the  woman,  triumphantly. 

*'  But  it  is  my  own." 


A  Plot  That  Failed  49 

*'  Graceless  boy ! "  said  the  old  gentleman,  severely, 
"  Do  not  add  falsehood  to  theft." 

"  I  am  speaking  the  truth,  sir." 

"  How  the  boy  brazens  it  out ! "  murmured  the  sour- 
visaged  lady. 

"  Return  the  lady  her  money,  unless  you  wish  to  be- 
arrested,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  don't  intend  to  give  this  person  " — ^Luke  found  it 
hard  to  say  lady — "  what  she  has  no  claim  to." 

"  Young  man,  you  will  find  that  you  are  making  a  grand 
mistake.  Probably  if  you  give  up  the  money  the  lady  will 
not  prosecute  you." 

"  No,  I  will  have  pity  upon  his  youth,"  said  the  woman^ 

"  I  can  tell  exactly  where  I  got  the  money,"  went  on 
Luke,  desperately. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  "  asked  the  old  maid,  with  a 
sarcastic  smile. 

"  From  Mrs.  Merton,  of  Prairie  Avenue." 

"  What  did  she  give  it  to  you  for  ?  " 

*'  I  am  in  her  employment." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  woman,  shrugging  her  shoul- 
ders, "  you  can  judge  whether  this  is  a  probable  story." 

"  I  refer  to  Mrs.  Merton  herself,"  said  Luke. 

"  No  doubt !  You  want  to  gain  time.  Boy,  I  am  get- 
ting out  of  patience.     Give  me  my  money !  " 

"  I  have  no  money  of  yours,  madam,"  replied  Luke> 
provoked ;  "  and  you  know  that  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  So  ybu  are  impertinent,  as  well  as  a  thief,"  said  the 
old  gentleman.  "  I  have  no  more  pity  for  you.  Madam, 
if  you  will  take  my  advice,  you  will  have  the  lying  rascal 
arrested." 

"  I  would  prefer  that  he  should  give  up  the  money 
quietly." 

"  I  wiU  take  it  upon  myself  to  call  a  policeman  when 
the  car  stops." 

"  You  do  me  great  injustice,  sir,"  said  Luke.  "  Why 
do  you  judge  so  severely  of  one  whom  you  do  not 
know?" 

Because,   young  man,   I   have   lived  too   long  to   be 


«   T>^ 


50  A  Plot  That  Failed 

easily  deceived.     I  pride  myself  upon  my  judgment  of 
faces,  and  I  can  see  the  guilt  in  yours." 

Luke  looked  about  him  earnestly. 

"  Is  there  no  one  in  this  car  who  believes  me  innocent?  " 
he  asked. 

"  No,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  We  all  believe  that 
this  very  respectable  lady  charges  you  justly." 

"  I  say  amen  to  that,"  added  the  old  maid,  nodding 
sharply. 

Next  to  the  old  maid  sat  a  man  of  about  thirty-five,  in 
a  business  suit,  who,  though  he  had  said  nothing,  had 
listened  attentively  to  the  charges  and  counter-charges. 
In  him  Luke  was  to  find  a  powerful  and  effective  friend. 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  old  gentleman,"  he  said.  "  You 
certainly  are  old  enough  to  have  learned  a  lesson  of 
Christian  charity." 

"  Sir,"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman,  in  a  lofty  tone, 
*'  I  don't  require  any  instruction  from  you." 

"  Why  do  you  think  the  boy  a  thief  .f*  Did  you  see  him 
take  the  money  ?  " 

"  No,  but  its  presence  in  his  pocket  is  proof  enough 
for  me  of  his  guilt." 

"  Of  course  it  is !  "  said  the  old  maid,  triumphantly. 

The  young  man  did  not  appear  in  the  least  disconcerted. 

"  I  have  seldom  encountered  more  uncharitable  people," 
he  said.  "  You  are  ready  to  pronounce  the  boy  guilty 
without  any  proof  at  all." 

"  Don't  it  occur  to  you  that  you  are  insulting  the  lady 
who  brings  the  charge?  "  asked  the  old  gentleman,  sternly. 

The  young  man  laughed. 

*'  The  woman  has  brought  a  false  charge,"  he  said. 

"  Really,  this  is  outrageous !  "  cried  the  old  maid.  "  If 
I  were  in  her  place  I  would  make  you  suffer  for  this 
calumny." 

"  Probably  I  know  her  better  than  you  do.     I  am  a 
salesman  in  Marshall  Field's  drygoods  store,  and  this  lady 
is    a    notorious    shoplifter.       She    is    varying    her    per-  ; 
formances  to-day.     I  have  a  great  mind  to  call  a  police- 
man.   She  deserves  arrest." 


Tom  Brooks  in  Trouble  5 1 

Had  a  bombshell  exploded  in  the  car,  there  would  not 
liave  been  a  greater  sensation.  The  woman  rose  without 
a  word,  and  signaled  to  have  the  car  stopped. 

"  Now,  sir,"  went  on  the  young  man,  sternly,  '*  if  you 
are  a  gentleman,  you  will  apologize  to  this  boy  for  your 
unworthy  suspicions,  and  you,  too,  madam." 

The  old  maid  tossed  her  head,  but  could  not  find  a  word 
to  say,  while  the  old  gentleman  looked  the  picture  of 
mortification. 

"  We  are  all  liable  to  be  mistaken ! "  he  muttered,  in  a 
confused  tone. 

"  Then  be  a  little  more  careful  next  time,  both  of  you ! 
My  boy,  I  congratulate  you  on  your  triumphant  vin- 
dication." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  it.  I  should  have  stood  a  very 
poor  chance  without  your  help." 

The  tide  was  turned,  and  the  uncharitable  pair  found 
so  many  unfriendly  glances  fixed  upon  them  that  they  were 
glad  to  leave  the  car  at  the  next  crossing. 

CHAPTER    XIH 

TOM    BEOOKS   IN    TROUBIiE 

**  I  BEGIN  to  think  I  am  the  favorite  of  fortune,"  thought 
Luke.  "  Ten  dollars  will  more  than  pay  a  month's  rent. 
Mother  will  feel  easy  now  about  her  loss  of  employment." 

Some  boys  would  have  felt  like  taking  a  holiday  for 
the  balance  of  the  day,  perhaps,  or  going  to  a  place  of 
amusement,  but  Luke  bought  his  evening  papers  as  usual. 
He  had  but  half  a  dozen  left  when  his  new  acquaintance, 
Stephen  Webb,  sauntered  along. 

"How's  business,  Luke?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  fair,  thank  you." 

"  Give  me  a  News" 

Stephen  passed  over  a  penny  in  payment,  but  did  not 
seem  inclined  to  go  away. 

"  I  meant  to  see  you  before,"  he  said,  **  but  my  time 
got  filled  up." 


52  Tom  Brooks  in  Trouble 

"  Have  you  taken  a  situation,  then  ?  "  asked  Luke. 

"  No,  I  am  still  a  man  of  leisure.  Why  don't  you  hire 
a  small  store,  and  do  a  general  periodical  business?  It 
would  pay  you  better." 

"  No  doubt  it  would,  but  it  would  take  money  to  open 
and  stock  such  a  store." 

"  I  may  make  a  proposition  to  you  some  time  to  go  in 
with  me,  I  furnishing  the  capital,  and  you  managing  the 
business." 

"  I  am  always  open  to  a  good  offer,"  said  Luke,  smiling. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  some  business,  but  I'm  a 
social  kind  of  fellow,  and  should  want  a  partner,  a  smart, 
enterprising,  trustworthy  person  like  you." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment." 

"Never  mind  that!  I  am  a  judge  of  human  nature, 
and  I  felt  confidence  in  you  at  once." 

Somehow  Luke  was  not  altogether  inclined  to  take 
Stephen  Webb  at  his  own  valuation.  His  new  acquaintance 
did  not  Impress  him  as  a  reliable  man  of  business,  but  he 
had  no  suspicion  of  anything  underhand. 

By  this  time  Luke  had  disposed  of  his  remaining  papers. 

*'  I  am  through  for  the  day,"  he  said,  "  and  shall  go 
home." 

"  Do  you  walk  or  ride?  " 

"  I  walk." 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  will  walk  along  with  you.  I 
haven't  taken  much  exercise  to-day." 

Luke  had  no  reason  for  declining  this  proposal,  and  ac- 
<;epted  Stephen's  companionship.  They  walked  on 
Clark  Street  to  the  bridge,  and  crossed  the  river.  Pres- 
ently they  reached  Milwaukee  Avenue." 

"  Isn't  the  walk  too  long  for  you  ?  "  asked  Luke. 

"  Oh,  no !  I  can  walk  any  distance  when  I  have  com- 
pany.   I  shall  take  a  car  back."  n 

Stephen  accompanied  the  newsboy  as  far  as  his  own 
door.  He  would  like  to  have  been  invited  up,  but  Luke  did 
inot  care  to  give  him  an  invitation.  Though  Stephen 
seemed  very  friendly,  he  was  not  one  whom  he  cared  to 
cultivate. 


Tom  Brooks  in  Trouble  53 

"  Well,  so  long !  "  said  Stephen,  with  his  "  good-night," 
**  I  shall  probably  see  you  to-morrow." 

"  I  have  found  out  where  they  live,"  thought  Stephen. 
*'  I  am  making  a  very  good  detective.  I'll  drop  a  hne  to 
Uncle  Thomas  this  evening." 

Meanwhile  Luke  went  upstairs  two  steps  at  a  time. 
He  was  the  bearer  of  good  tidings,  and  that  always 
quickens  the  steps. 

He  found  his  mother  sitting  in  her  rocking-chair  with 
a  sober  face. 

"  Well,  mother,"  he  asked,  gayly,  "  how  have  you  passed 
the  day?" 

"  Very  unprofitably,  Luke.  I  went  out  this  afternoon, 
and  visited  two  places  where  I  thought  they  might  have 
some  sewing  for  me,  but  I  only  met  with  disappointment. 
Now  that  I  have  a  sewing  machine,  it  is  a  great  pity  that 
I  can't  make  use  of  it." 

"  Don't  be  troubled,  mother !  We  can  get  along  well 
enough." 

"  But  we  have  only  your  earnings  to  depend  upon." 

"  If  I  always  have  as  good  a  day  as  this,  we  can  de- 
pend on  those  very  easily." 

"  Did  you  earn  much,  Luke?  " 

"  I  earned  a  lot  of  money." 

Mrs.  Walton  looked  interested,  and  Luke's  manner 
cheered  her. 

"  There  are  always  compensations,  it  seems.  I  was  only 
thinking  of  my  own  bad  luck." 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  mother  ?  "  and  Luke  dis- 
played the  ten-dollar  bill. 

"  I  don't  understand  how  you  could  have  taken  in  so 
much  money,  Luke." 

"  Then  I  will  explain,"  and  Luke  told  the  story  of  the 
adventure  on  State  Street,  and  his  rescue  of  the  old  lady 
from  the  danger  of  being  run  over. 

"  The  best  of  it  is,"  he  concluded,  "  I  think  I  shall 
get  regular  employment  for  part  of  my  time  from 
Mrs.  Merton.  Whatever  I  do  for  her  will  be  liberally 
paid  for." 


54  Tom  Brooks  in  Trouble 

Luke  went  to  a  bakery  for  some  cream  cakes,  of  whicK 
Bennie  was  particularly  fond. 

At  the  same  time  Stephen  Webb  was  busily  engaged 
in  the  writing  room  of  the  Palmer  House,  inditing  a  letter 
to  his  imcle. 

Deab  Uncle  Thomas: — ^I  have  devoted  my  whole  time  to  the 
task  which  you  assigned  me,  and  have  met  with  very  good  success. 
I  foimd  the  boy  vmcommunicative,  and  had  to  exert  all  my  ingenuity. 

Of  the  accuracy  of  this  and  other  statements,  the  reader 
will  judge  for  himself. 

The  boy  has  a  mother  and  a  younger  brother.  They  depend  for 
support  chiefly  upon  what  he  can  earn,  though  the  mother  does  a 
little  sewing,  but  that  doesn't  bring  in  much.  They  live  in  Green 
Street,  near  Milwaukee  Avenue.  I  have  been  there,  and  seen  the 
house  where  they  reside.  It  is  a  humble  place,  but  as  good,  I  pre- 
sume, as  they  can  afford.  No  doubt  they  are  very  poor,  and  have 
all  they  can  do  to  make  both  ends  meet. 

I  have  learned  this  much,  but  have  had  to  work  hard  to  do  it.  Of 
course,  I  need  not  say  that  I  shall  spare  no  pains  to  meet  your  ex- 
pectations. If  you  should  take  me  into  your  confidence,  and  give  me 
an  idea  of  what  more  you  wish  to  know,  I  feel  sure  that  I  can  manage 
to  secure  all  needed  information.    Yoiu-  dutiful  nephew, 

Stephen  Webb. 

Thomas  Browning,  in  his  Milwaukee  home,  read  this 
letter  with  satisfaction. 

He  wrote  briefly  to  his  nephew : 

"  You  have  done  well  thus  far,  and  I  appreciate  your  zeal. 
Get  the  boy  to  talking  about  bis  father,  if  you  can.  Let  me 
hear  anything  he  may  say  on  this  subject.  As  to  my  motive, 
I  suspect  that  Mr.  Walton  may  have  been  an  early  acquaintance 
of  mine.  If  so,  I  may  feel  disposed  to  do  something  for  the 
family." 

On  his  way  to  the  Sherman  House,  the  next  morning, 
Luke  witnessed  rather  an  exciting  scene,  in  which  his  old 
friend,  Tom  Brooks,  played  a  prominent  part. 

There  was  a  Chinese  laundry  on  Milwaukee  Avenue  kept 
by  a  couple  of  Chinamen  who  were  peaceably  disposed  if 
not  interfered  with.     But  several  boys,  headed  by  Tom 


Luke  has  a  Cool  Reception  ^^ 

Brooks,  had  repeatedly  annoyed  the  laundrymen,  and  ex- 
cited their  resentment. 

On  this  particular  morning  Tom  sent  a  stone  crashing 
through  the  window  of  Ah  King.  The  latter  had  been 
on  the  watch,  and,  provoked  beyond  self-control,  rushed 
out  into  the  street,  wild  with  rage,  and  pursued  Tom  with 
a  flatiron  in  his  hand. 

"  Help !  help !  murder !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  panic-stricken, 
running  away  as  fast  as^his  legs  would  carry  him. 

But  anger,  excited  by  the  broken  window,  lent  wings 
to  the  Chinaman's  feet,  and  he  gained  rapidly  upon  the 
young  aggressor. 

CHAPTER    XIV 

XiUKE    HAS   A    COOIi   EECEPTION   IN    PRAIRIE    AVENUE 

Tom  Brooks  had  reason  to  feel  alarmed  for  his  Chinese 
pursuer  fully  intended  to  strike  Tom  with  the  flatiron. 
Though  this  was  utterly  wrong,  some  excuse  must  be  made 
for  Ah  King,  who  had  frequently  been  annoyed  by  Tom. 

It  was  at  this  critical  juncture  that  Luke  Walton  ap- 
peared on  the  scene. 

He  had  no  reason  to  like  Tom,  but  he  instantly  pre- 
pared to  rescue  him.  Fortunately,  he  knew  Ah  King,  whom 
he  had  more  than  once  protected  from  the  annoyance  of 
the  hoodlums  of  the  neighborhood. 

Luke  ran  up  and  seized  the  Chinaman  by  the  arm. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  demanded,  sternly. 

"  Fool  boy  bleak  my  window,"  said  Ah  King.  "  I  bleak 
his  head." 

"  No,  you  mustn't  do  that.    The  police  wiU  arrest  you." 

"  Go  'way !  Me  killee  white  boy,"  cried  Ah  King,  im- 
patiently trying  to  shake  off  Luke's  grasp.  "  He  bleak 
window — cost  me  a  doUee." 

"  I'll  see  that  he  pays  it,  or  is  arrested,"  said  Luke. 

Unwillingly  Ah  King  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded, 
more  readily,  perhaps,  that  Tom  was  now  at  a  safe 
distance. 

"  You  plomise  me?  "  said  Ah  King. 


56  Luke  has  a  Cool  Reception 

"  Yes ;  if  he  don't  pay,  I  will.  Go  and  get  the  window; 
mended." 

Luke  easilj  overtook  Tom,  who  was  looking  round  the 
corner  to  see  how  matters  were  going. 

"  Has  he  gone  back?  "  asked  Tom,  rather  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  but  if  I  hadn't  come  along,  he  would,  perhaps, 
have  killed  you." 

"  You  only  say  that  to  scare  me,"  said  Tom,  uneasily. 

"  No,  I  don't ;  I  mean  it.  Do  you  know  how  I  got 
you  off?  " 

"How?" 

"  I  told  Ah  King  you  would  pay  for  the  broken  win- 
dow. It, will  cost  a  dollar." 

"  I  didn't  promise,"  said  Tom,  significantly. 

*'  No,"  said  Luke,  sternly,  "  but  if  you  don't  do  it,  I 
will  myself  have  you  arrested.  I  saw  you  throw  the  stone 
at  the  window." 

"  What  concern  is  it  of  yours  ?  "  asked  Tom,  angrily. 
"  Why  do  you  meddle  with  my  business  ?  " 

"  If  I  hadn't  meddled  with  your  business,  you  might 
have  a  fractured  skull  by  this  time.  It  is  a  contemptibly 
mean  thing  to  annoy  a  poor  Chinaman." 

"  He's  only  a  heathen." 

"  A  well-behaved  heathen  is  better  than  a  Christian  such 
as  you  are." 

"  I  don't  want  any  lectures,"  said  Tom  in  a  sulky  tone. 

"  I  presume  not.  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  except 
that  I  expect  you  to  hand  me  that  dollar  to-night." 

"  I  haven't  got  a  dollar." 

"  Then  you  had  better  get  one.  I  don't  believe  you 
got  a  dollar's  worth  of  sport  in  breaking  the  window, 
and  I  advise  you  hereafter  to  spend  your  money 
better." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  will  pay  it,"  said  Tom,  eying  Luke 
closely,  to  see  if  he  were  in  earnest. 

"  Then  I  will  report  your  case  to  the  police." 

"  You're  a  mean  fellow,"  said  Tom,  angrily. 

"  I  begin  to  be  sorry  I  interfered  to  save  you.  How- 
ever, take  your  choice.     If  necessary,  I  will  pay  the  dollar 


Luke  has  a  Cool  Reception  ^y 

myself,  for  I  have  promised  Ah  King;  but  I  shall  keep 
my  word  about  having  you  arrested." 

It  was  a  bitter  pill  for  Tom  to  swallow,  but  he  man- 
aged to  raise  the  money,  and  handed  it  to  Luke  that  even- 
ing. Instead  of  being  grateful  to  the  one  who  had  pos- 
sibly saved  his  life,  he  was  only  the  more  incensed  against 
him,  and  longed  for  an  opportunity  to  do  him  an  injury. 

"I  hate  that  Luke  Walton,"  he  said  to  one  of  his  in- 
timate friends.  "  He  wants  to  boss  me,  and  all  of  us, 
but  he  can't  do  it.  He's  only  fit  to  keep  company  with  a 
heathen  Chinee." 

Luke  spent  a  couple  of  hours  in  selling  papers. 
He  had  not  forgotten  his  engagement  with  Mrs.  Merton, 
and  punctually  at  ten  o'clock  he  pulled  the  bell  of  the  house 
in  Prairie  Avenue. 

Just  at  that  moment  the  door  was  opened,  and  he  faced 
a  boy  of  his  own  age,  a  thin,  dark-complexioned  youth, 
of  haughty  bearing.  This,  no  doubt,  he  concluded,  was 
Harold  Tracy. 

"  What  do  you  want.?  "  he  asked,  superciliously. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  Mrs.  Merton." 

"  Humph !  What  business  have  you  with  Mrs. 
Merton?" 

Luke  was  not  favorably  impressed  with  Harold's  man- 
ner, and  did  not  propose  to  treat  him  with  the  considera- 
tion which  he  evidently  thought  his  due. 

"  I  come  here  at  Mrs.  Merton's  request,"  he  said,  briefly. 
*'  As  to  what  business  we  have  together,  I  refer  you  to  her." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  you  are  impudent,"  retorted  Harold, 
angrily. 

"  Your  opinion  of  me  is  of  no  importance  to  me.  If 
you  don't  care  to  let  Mrs.  Merton  know  I  am  here,  I 
will  ring  again  and  ask  the  servant  to  do  so." 

Here  a  lady,  bearing  a  strong  personal  resemblance  to 
Harold,  made  her  appearance,  entering  the  hall  from  the 
breakfast  room  in  the  rear. 

*'  What  is  it,  Harold?  "  she  asked,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 

**  Here  is  a  boy  who  says  he  wants  to  see  Aunt  Eliza." 

*'  What  can  he  want  with  her  ?  " 


58  Luke  has  a  Cool  Reception 

"  I  asked  him,  but  he  won't  tell." 

"  I  must  trouble  him  to  tell  me,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  clos- 
ing her  thin  mouth  with  a  snap. 

*'  Like  mother — like  son,"  thought  Luke. 

"Do  jou  hear.?"  demanded  Mrs.  Tracy,  unpleasantly. 

"  I  am  here  by  Mrs.  Merton's  appointment,  Mrs. 
Tracy,"  said  Luke,  firmly.  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  her 
informed  that  I  have  arrived." 

"  And  who  are  you,  may  I  ask.?  " 

"Perhaps  you've  got  your  card  about  you.?"  sneered 
Harold. 

"  I  have,"  answered  Luke,  quietly. 

With  a  comical  twinkle  in  his  eye,  he  offered  one  ta 
Harold. 

"  Luke  Walton,"  repeated  Harold. 

"  Yes,  that  is  my  name." 

"  I  don't  think  my  aunt  will  care  to  see  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Tracy,  who  was  becoming  more  and  more  provoked  with 
the  "  upstart  boy,"  as  she  mentally  termed  him. 

*'  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  let  her  know  I  am  here." 

*'  It  is  quite  unnecessary.    I  will  take  the  responsibility." 

Luke  was  quite  in  doubt  as  to  what  he  ought  to  do. 
He  could  not  very  well  prevent  Harold's  closing  the  door, 
in  obedience  to  his  mother's  directions,  but  fortunately 
the  matter  was  taken  out  of  his  hands  by  the  old  lady 
herself,  who,  unobserved  by  Harold  and  his  mother,  had 
been  listening  to  the  conversation  from  the  upper  landing. 
When  she  saw  her  visitor  about  to  be  turned  out  of  the 
house,  she  thought  it  quite  time  to  interfere. 

"  Louisa,"  she  called,  in  a  tone  of  displeasure,  "  you 
will  oblige  me  by  not  meddHng  with  my  visitors.  Luke, 
come  upstairs." 

Luke  could  not  forbear  a  smile  of  triumph  as  he  passed 
Harold  and  Mrs.  Tracy,  and  noticed  the  look  of  discom- 
fiture on  their  faces. 

"  I  didn't  know  he  was  your  visitor.  Aunt  Eliza,"  said 
Mrs.  Tracy,  trembling  with  the  anger  she  did  not  ven- 
ture to  display  before  her  wealthy  relative. 

"  Didn't  he  say  so.?  "  asked  Mrs.  Merton,  sharply. 


A  Welcome  Gift  59 

"  Yes,  but  I  was  not  sure  that  he  was  not  an  impostor." 

"  You  had  only  to  refer  the  matter  to  me,  and  I  could 
have  settled  the  question.     Luke  is  in  my  employ " 

"In  your  employ.?."  repeated  Mrs.  Tracy,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes ;  he  will  do  errands  for  me,  and  sometimes  accom- 
pany me  to  the  city." 

"Why  didn't  you  call  on  Harold.''  He  would  be  very 
glad  to  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  Harold  had  other  things  to  occupy  him.  I  prefer 
the  other  arrangement.  Luke,  come  into  my  room  and  I 
will  give  you  directions." 

Mrs.  Tracy  and  Harold  looked  at  each  other  as  the  old 
lady  and  Luke  disappeared. 

"  This  is  a  new  freak  of  Aunt  Eliza's,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy. 
*'  Why  does  she  pass  over  you,  and  give  the  preference  to 
this  upstart  boy.?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  that,  mother,"  replied  Harold.  "  I  don't 
want  to  be  dancing  attendance  on  an  old  woman." 

"  But  she  may  take  a  fancy  to  this  boy — she  seems  to 
have  done  so  already — and  give  him  part  of  the  money 
that  ought  to  be  yours." 

"  If  we  find  there  »is  any  danger  of  that,  I  guess  we  are 
smart  enough  to  set  her  against  him.  Let  her  have  the 
boy  for  a  servant  if  she  wishes." 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  Harold.  We  must 
be  very  discreet,  for  Aunt  Eliza  is  worth  half  a  million." 

"  And  how  old  is  she,  mother  .?" 

"  Seventy-one." 

"  That's  pretty  old.     She  can't  live  many  years." 

"  I  hope  she  will  live  to  a  good  old  age,"  said  Mrs. 
Tracy,  hypocritically,  "but  when  she  dies,  it  is  only  fair 
that  we  should  have  her  money." 

CHAPTER  XV 

A    WELCOME    GIFT 

When  Luke  and  Mrs.  Merton  were  alone,  the  old  lady 
said,  with  a  smile :  "  You  seemed  to  have  some  difficulty  in 
getting  into  the  house." 


6o  A  Welcome  Gift 

"  Yes,"  answered  Luke.  "  I  don't  think  your  nephew- 
likes  ine." 

"  Probably  not.  Both  he  and  his  mother  are  afraid 
someone  will  come  between  me  and  them.  They  are  selfish, 
and  cannot  understand  how  I  can  have  any  other  friends 
or  beneficiaries.  You  are  surprised  that  I  speak  so  openly 
of  such  near  relatives  to  such  a  comparative  stranger. 
However,  it  is  my  nature  to  be  outspoken.  And  now, 
Luke,  if  you  don't  think  it  will  be  tiresome  to  escort  an 
old  woman,  I  mean  to  take  you  doAvntown  with  me.*" 

"  I  look  upon  you  as  a  kind  friend,  Mrs.  Merton,"  re- 
sponded Luke,  earnestly.  "  I  want  to  thank  you  for  the 
handsome  present  you  made  me  yesterday.  I  didn't  expect 
anything  like  ten  dollars." 

"  You  will  find  it  acceptable,  however,  I  don't  doubt. 
Seriously,  Luke,  I  don't  think  it's  too  much  to  pay  for 
saving  my  hfe.  Now,  if  you  will  wait  here  five  minutes, 
I  will  be  ready  to  go  out  with  you." 

Five  minutes  later  Mrs.  Merton  came  into  the  room 
attired  for  the  street.  They  went  downstairs  together, 
and  Luke  and  she  got  on  a  street  car. 

They  were  observed  by  Mrs.  Tracy  and  Harold  as  they 
left  the  house. 

"  Aunt  Ehza's  very  easily  imposed  upon,"  remarked  the 
latter. 

"  She  scarcely  knows  anything  of  that  boy,  and  she  has 
taken  him  out  with  her.  How  does  she  know  but  he  is  a 
thief.?  " 

"  He"  looks  like  one,"  said  Harold,  in  an  amiable  tone. 
"  If  aunt  is  robbed,  I  shan't  pity  her.    She  will  deserve  it." 

"  Very  true ;  but  you  must  remember  that  it  will  be  our 
loss  as  well  as  hers.  Her  property  will  rightfully  come 
to  us,  and  if  she  is  robbed  we  shall  inherit  so  much  the 
less." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  Harold,  it  may  be  well  for  you 
to  find  out  something  of  this  boy.  If  you  can  prove  to 
Aunt  Eliza  that  he  is  of  bad  character,  she  will  send  him 
adrift." 

"  I'll  see  about  it,  mother." 


A  Welcome  Gift  6i 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Merton  and  Luke  were  on  their  way 
to  the  business  portion  of  the  city. 

"  I  think  I  will  stop  at  Adams  Street,  Luke,"  said  the 
old  lady.  "  I  shall  have  to  go  to  the  Continental  Bank. 
Do  you  know  where  it  is  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  is  on  La  Salle  Street,  comer  of  Adams." 

"  Quite  right.  I  shall  introduce  you  to  the  paying  teller 
as  in  my  employ,  as  I  may  have  occasion  to  send  you  there 
alone  at  times  to  deposit  or  draw  money." 

"  I  wish  Harold  was  more  like  you,"  she  said.  "  His 
mother's  suggestion  that  I  should  take  him  with  me  as  an 
escort  would  be  just  as  disagreeable  to  him  as  to  me." 

"  Is  he  attending  school  .-^  "  asked  Luke. 

"  Yes.  He  is  preparing  for  college,  but  he  is  not  fond 
of  study,  and  I  doubt  whether  he  ever  enters.  I  think 
he  must  be  about  your  age." 

"  I  am  nearly  sixteen." 

"  Then  he  is  probably  a  little  older." 

They  entered  the  bank,  and  Mrs.  Merton,  going  to  the 
window  of  the  paying  teller,  presented  a  check  for  a  hun- 
dred dollars. 

"  How  will  you  have  it,  Mrs.  Merton  ?  "  asked  the  teller. 

"  In  fives  and  tens.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Northrop,  please 
take  notice  of  this  boy  with  me.  I  shall  occasionally  send 
him  by  himself  to  attend  to  my  business.  His  name  is 
Luke  Walton." 

"  His  face  looks  familiar.    I  think  we  have  met  before." 

*'  I  have  sold  you  papers  more  than  once,  Mr.  North- 
rop," said  Luke.  "  I  stand  on  Clark  Street,  near  the 
Sherman." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,  now.  We  bank  officials  are  apt  to 
take  notice  of  faces." 

"  Here,  Luke,  carry  this  money  for  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Merton,  putting  a  lady's  pocketbook  into  the  hand  of 
her  young  escort.  "  You  are  less  likely  to  be  robbed 
than  I." 

Luke  was  rather  pleased  at  the  fuU  confidence  his  new- 
employer  seemed  to  repose  in  him. 

"  I  am  now  going  up  on  State  Street,"  said  Mrs.  Mer- 
5kk 


62  A  Welcome  Gift 

ton,  as  they  emerged  into  the  street.  "  You  know  the 
store  of  Marshall  Field?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  everybody  in  Chicago  knows  that,"  said  Luke. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  stood  before  the  large  store,  and 
Mrs.  Merton  entered,  followed  by  Luke. 

Mrs.  Merton  went  to  that  part  of  the  establishment 
where  woolens  are  sold,  and  purchased  a  dress  pattern. 
To  Luke's  surprise,  the  salesman  was  the  same  one  who 
had  come  to  his  assistance  in  the  car  the  day  previous 
when  he  was  charged  with  stealing.  The  recognition  was 
mutual. 

"  I  believe  we  have  met  before,"  said  the  young  man, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  fortunately  for  me,"  answered  Luke,  gratefully. 

"  The  two  parties  who  were  determined  to  find  you 
guilty  looked  foolish  when  they  ascertained  the  real  char- 
acter of  your  accuser." 

"  What  is  this,  Luke,?  You  didn't  tell  me  of  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Merton. 

The  story  was  related  briefly. 

*'I  should  hke  to  meet  that  woman,"  said  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton, nodding  energetically.  "  I'd  give  her  a  piece  of  my 
mind.     Luke,  you  may  hand  me  ten  dollars. 

The  goods  were  wrapped  up  and  the  change  returned. 

"Where  shall  I  send  the  bundle,  Mrs.  Merton.?"  asked 
the  salesman,  deferentially. 

"  Luke  will  take  it."  i 

As  they  left  the  store  Mrs.  Merton  said :  "  Did  you 
think  I  was  buying  this  dress  for  myself,  Luke?  " 

"  I  thought  so,"  Luke  answered. 

"  No,  I  have  dresses  enough  to  last  me  a  lifetime,  I 
may  almost  say.     This  dress  pattern  is  for  your  mother." 

"  For  my  mother?  "  repeated  Luke,  joyfully. 

*'  Yes ;  I  hope  it  will  be  welcome." 

"  Indeed  it  will.  Mother  hasn't  had  a  new  dress  for 
over  a  year." 

"  Then  I  guessed  right.  Give  it  to  her  with  my  com- 
pliments, and  tell  her  I  give  it  to  her  for  your  sake.  Now, 
I  believe  I  will  go  home." 


Thomas  Browning  at  Home  63 

No  present  made  to  Luke  could  have  given  him  so  mucK 
pleasure  as  this  gift  to  his  mother,  for  he  knew  how  much 
she  stood  in  need  of  it. 

When  they  reached  the  house  on  Prairie  Avenue,  they 
met  Mrs.  Tracy  on  the  steps.  She  had  been  out  for  a 
short  call. 

"  Did  you  have  a  pleasant  morning.  Aunt  Eliza .''  "  she 
asked,  quite  ignoring  Luke. 

"  Yes,  quite  so.  Luke,  I  won't  trouble  you  to  come 
in.  I  shall  not  need  you  to-morrow.  The  next  day  you 
may  call  at  the  same  hour." 

Luke  turned  away,  but  was  called  back  sharply  by  Mrs, 
Tracy. 

"  Boy ! "  she  said,  "  you  are  taking  away  my  aunt's 
bundle.    Bring  it  back  (Erectly." 

"  Louisa,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  don't  trouble  yourself. 
That  bundle  is  meant  for  Luke's  mother." 

"  Something  you  bought  for  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  dress  pattern." 

"  Oh !  "  sniffed  Mrs.  Tracy,  eying  Luke  with  strong  dis-» 
approval. 

CHAPTER    XVI 

THOMAS    BEOWNING    AT    HOME  / 

In  one  of  the  handsomest  streets  in  Milwaukee  stood  a 
private  residence  which  was  quite  in  harmony  with  its 
surroundings.  It  looked  like  the  home  of  a  man  of  ample 
means.  It  was  luxuriously  furnished,  and  at  one  side  was 
a  conservatory.  It  was  apt  to  attract  the  attention  of 
strangers,  and  the  question  was  asked :  "  Who  lives  there?  " 

And  the  answer  would  be :  "  Thomas  Browning.  He 
will  probably  be  mayor  some  day." 

Yes,  this  was  the  residence  of  Thomas  Browning,  for- 
merly Thomas  Butler,  the  man  to  whom  the  dead  father 
of  Luke  Walton  had  intrusted  the  sum  of  ten  thousand 
dollars  to  carry  to  his  wife  and  children.  How  he  fulfilled 
his  trust,  or,  rather,  did  not  fulfill  it,  we  already  know. 
But  in  Milwaukee,  where  Mr.  Browning  had  become  a 


64  Thomas  Browning  at  Home  ' 

leading  citizen,  it  was  not  known.  It  was  entirely  incon- 
sistent with  what  was  believed  to  be  his  character.  For 
Mr.  Browning  was  president  of  one  charitable  society  and 
treasurer  of  another.  At  the  annual  meetings  of  these  so- 
cieties he  was  always  called  upon  to  speak,  and  his  allu- 
sions to  the  poverty  and  privations  of  those  who  were 
cared  for  by  these  societies  never  failed  to  produce  an 
impression. 

It  was  popularly  supposed  that  he  gave  away  large  sums 
in  charity.  Indeed,  he  admitted  the  fact,  but  explained 
the  absence  of  his  name  from  subscription  papers  by  say- 
ing :  "  All  my  gifts  are  anonymous.  Instead  of  giving  my 
name,  I  prefer  to  put  down  '  Cash,'  so  much,  or  *  A 
Friend,'  such  another  sum.  I  don't  wish  to  influence 
others,  but  it  jars  upon  me  to  have  my  name  ostenta- 
tiously paraded  in  the  public  prints." 

Now,  in  all  subscriptions  there  are  donations  ascribed 
to  "  Cash  "  and  "  A  Friend,"  and  whenever  these  occurred, 
it  was  generally  supposed  they  represented  Mr.  Brown- 
ing. But,  to  let  the  reader  into  a  little  secret,  this  was 
only  a  shrewd  device  of  Mr.  Browning's  to  have  the  repu- 
tation of  a  philanthropist  at  little  or  no  expense,  for,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  he  never  contributed  at  all  to  the  chari- 
ties in  which  he  seemed  to  take  such  an  interest ! 

In  a  pleasant  room  on  the  second  floor  sat  the  pseudo- 
philanthropist.  The  room  was  furnished  as  a  library.  At 
a  writing  table,  poring  over  what  looked  like  an  account 
book,  he  looked  the  picture  of  comfort  and  respectability. 
A  few  well-chosen  engravings  adorned  the  walls.  A  pleas- 
ant light  was  diffused  about  the  room  from  a  chandelier 
suspended  over  the  table. 

Thomas  Browning  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  a  placid 
smile  overspread  his  naturally  harsh  features.  He  looked 
about  him,  and  his  thoughts  somehow  ran  back  to  a  time 
when  he  was  very  differently  situated. 

"  Five  years  ago  to-night,"  he  said,  "  I  was  well-nigh 
desperate.  I  hadn't  a  cent  to  bless  myself  with,  nor  was 
the  prospect  of  getting  one  particularly  bright.  How  I 
lived,  for  a  considerable  time,  I  hardly  know.    I  did  have  a 


Thomas  Browning  at  Home  65 

notion  at  one  time,  when  I  was  particularly  down  on  my 
luck,  of  committing  suicide,  and  so  ending  the  struggle 
once  for  all.  It  would  have  been  a  great  mistake !  "  he 
added  after  a  pause.  "  I  didn't  foresee  ^t  the  time  the 
prosperous  years  that  lay  before  me.  Frederick  Walton's 
money  changed  my  whole  life.  Ten  thousand  dollars  isn't 
a  fortune,  but  it  proved  the  basis  of  one.  It  enabled  me 
to  float  the  Excelsior  Mine.  I  remember  there  were  a 
hundred  thousand  shares  at  two  dollars  a  share,  all  based 
upon  a  few  acres  of  mining  land  which  I  bought  for  a 
song.  With  the  ten  thousand  dollars,  I  hired  an  office, 
printed  circulars,  distributed  glowing  accounts  of  imag- 
inary wealth,  etc.  It  cost  considerable  for  advertising, 
but  I  sold  seventy  thousand  shares,  and  when  I  had  gath- 
ered in  the  money  I  let  the  bottom  fall  out.  There  was  a 
great  fuss,  of  course,  but  I  figured  as  the  largest  loser, 
being  the  owner  of  thirty  thousand  shares  (for  which  I 
hadn't  paid  a  cent),  and  so  shared  the  sympathy  extended 
to  losers.  It  was  a  nice  scheme,  and  after  deducting  all 
expenses,  I  made  a  clean  seventy-five  thousand  dollars  out 
of  it,  which,  added  to  my  original  capital,  made  eighty-five 
thousand.  Then  I  came  to  Milwaukee  and  bought  this 
house.  From  that  time  my  career  has  been  upward  and 
onward.  My  friends  say  some  day  I  shall  be  mayor  of 
the  city.  Well,  stranger  things  have  happened,  and  who 
knows  but  my  friends  may  be  right !  " 

At  this  moment  a  servant  entered  the  library. 

"  Well,  Mary,  what  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  philanthropist. 

"  Please,  sir,  there's  a  poor  woman  at  the  door,  and 
she  would  like  to  see  you." 

"  Ah,  yes,  she  wants  relief  from  the  Widows'  and 
Orphans'  Society,  probably.  Well,  send  her  up.  I  am 
always  at  home  to  the  poor." 

"  What  a  good  man  he  is ! "  thought  Mary.  "  It's 
strange  he  gives  such  low  wages  to  the  girls  that  work 
for  him.  He  says  it's  because  he  gives  away  so  much 
money  in  charities." 

Mary  ushered  in,  a  moment  later,  a  woman  in  a  faded 
dress,  with  a  look  of  care  and  sorrow  on  her  thin  features. 


66  Thomas  Browning  at  Home 

"  Take  a  seat,  madam,"  said  Thomas  Browning,  ur- 
banely.    "Did  you  wish  to  see  me?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  am  in  difficulties,  and  have  ventured  to 
call  upon  you." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  I  am  always  ready  to  see  the 
unfortunate." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  knOw  you  have  the  reputation  of  being 
a  philanthropist." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Browning,  modestly.  "  Don't 
mention  it.  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  flattering  estimation 
Avhich  is  placed  on  my  poor  services,  but  I  really  don't 
deserve  it.  It  is,  perhaps,  as  the  President  of  the  Widows' 
and  Orphans'  Charitable  Society  that  you  wish  to  speak 
to  me." 

"  No,  sir.  It  is  as  President  of  the  Excelsior  Mining 
Company  that  I  wish  to  make  an  appeal  to  you." 

"  Oh!  "  ejaculated  Browning,  with  a  perceptible  change 
of  countenance. 

"  Of  course  you  remember  it,  sir.  I  was  a  widow,  with 
a  small  property  of  five  thousand  dollars  left  me  by  my 
iate  husband.  It  was  all  I  had  on  which  to  support  myself 
and  two  children.  The  banks  paid  poor  interest,  and  I 
was  in  search  of  a  profitable  investment.  One  of  your 
circulars  fell  into  my  hands.  The  shares  were  two  dollars 
each,  and  it  was  stated  that  they  would  probably  yield 
fifty  per  cent  dividends.  That  would  support  me  hand- 
somely. But  I  didn't  decide  to  invest  until  I  had  written 
a  private  letter  to  you." 

She  took  it  from  the  pocket  of  her  dress,  and  offered 
it  to  Thomas  Browning,  but  that  gentleman  waved  it  aside. 

She  continued :  "  You  indorsed  all  that  the  circular  con- 
tained. You  said  that  within  a  year  you  thought  he 
shares  would  rise  to  at  least  ten  dollars.  So  I  invested  all 
the  money  I  had.  You  know  what  followed.  In  six  months 
the  shares  went  down  to  nothing,  and  I  found  myself 
penniless." 

"  I  know  it,  my  good  woman,"  said  Thomas  Browning. 
*'  I  know  it.  to  my  cost,  i  myself  had  sixty  thousand  dol- 
lars invested  in  the  stock.     I  lust  it  all." 


A  Strange  Visitor  67 

**  But  you  seem  to  be  a  rich  man,"  said  the  poor  woman, 
looking  about  her. 

"  I  have  made  it  out  of  other  ventures.  But  the  col- 
lapse of  the  mine  was  a  sad  blow  to  me.  As  the  president, 
I  might  have  had  something  from  the  wreck,  but  I  did 
not.  I  suffered  with  the  rest.  Now,  may  I  ask  what  I 
can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  It  was  on  account  of  your  advice  that  I  bought  stock. 
Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  make  up  to  me  a  part  of 
the  loss  ?  " 

"  Impossible !  "  said  Browning,  sharply.  "  Didn't  I  tell 
you  I  lost  much  more  heavily  than  you?  " 

"  Then  you  can  do  nothing  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  can  put  you  on  the  pension  list  of  the  Widows' 
and  Orphans'  Society.  That  wiU  entitle  you  to  receive 
a  dollar  a  week  for  three  months." 

"  I  am  not  an  object  of  charity,  sir.  I  wish  you  good- 
niglit." 

"  Good-night.     If  you  change  your  mind  come  to  me." 

"  Very  unreasonable,  upon  my  word,"  sohloquized 
Thomas  Browning. 

At  eleven  o'clock  Mr.  Browning  went  to  his  bedchamber. 
He  lit  the  gas  and  was  preparing  to  disrobe,  when  his 
sharp  ear  detected  the  somid  of  suppressed  breathing,  and 
the  point  from  which  it  proceeded.  He  walked  quickly 
to  the  bed,  bent  over,  and  looked  underneath.  In  an  in- 
stant he  had  caught  a  man  who  had  been  concealed  be- 
neath it. 

The  intruder  was  a  wretchedly  dressed  tramp.  Brown- 
ing allowed  the  man  to  get  upon  his  feet,  and  then,  facing 
him,  demanded,  sternly :  "  Why  are  you  here  ?  Did  you 
come  to  rob  me.^*  " 

CHAPTER    XVII 

A   STRANGE    VISITOR 

"  Did  you  come  to  rob  me  ?  "  repeated  Mr.,  Browning, 
as  he  stood  facing  the  tramp,  whom  he  had  brought  to 
the  light  from  under  the  bed. 


68  A  Strange  Visitor 

There  was  an  eager,  questioning  look  on  the  face 
of  the  tramp,  as  he  stared  at  the  gentleman  upon 
whose  privacy  he  had  intruded — ^not  a  look  of  fear, 
but  a  look  of  curiosity.  Thomas  Browning  misinter- 
preted it.  He  thought  the  man  was  speechless  from 
alarm. 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  say  for  yourself?  "  demanded 
Browning,  sternly. 

The  answer  considerably  surprised  him. 

"Why,  pard,  it's  you,  is  it?"  said  the  man,  with  the 
air  of  one  to  whom  a  mystery  was  made  plain. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  your  impertinence  ?  "  asked 
the  respectable  Mr.  Browning,  angrily. 

"  Well,  that's  a  good  one !  Who'd  have  thought  that 
this  'ere  mansion  belonged  to  my  old  friend  and  pard?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?    Are  you  crazy,  fellow  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't  crazy,  as  I  know  of,  but  I'm  flabbergasted 
— that's  what  I  am." 

"  Have  done  with  this  trifling  and  tell  me  why  I 
shouldn't  hand  you  over  to  the  police?  " 

"  I  guess  you  won't  do  that,  Tom  Butler ! "  returned 
the  burglar,  coolly. 

Browning  stared  in  surprise  and  dismay  at  hearing  his 
old  name  pronounced  by  this  unsavory  specimen  of  hu- 
manity. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  demanded,  quickly. 

*'  Don't  you  know  me?  " 

"  No,  I  don't.  I  never  saw  you  before.  I  don't  asso- 
ciate with  men  of  your  class." 

"  Hear  him  now !  "  chuckled  the  tramp,  in  an  amazed 
tone.  "  Why,  Tom  Butler,  you  an'  me  used  to  be  pards. 
*'  Don't  you  remember  Jack  King  ?  Why,  we've  bunked 
together,  and  hunted  for  gold  together,  and  almost 
starved  together ;  but  that  was  in  the  old  days." 

Browning  looked  the  amazement  he  felt. 

"  Are  you  really  Jack  King?  "  he  ejaculated,  sinking! 
back  into  an  easy-chair,  and  staring  hard  at  his  unexpected 
visitor. 

"  I'm  the  same  old  coon,  Tom,  but  I'm  down  at  the  heel. 


A  Strange  Visitor  69 

while  you — do  you  really  own  this  fine  house,  and  these 
elegant  fixin's?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Browning,  mechanically. 

"  Well,  you've  fared  better  than  I.  I've  been  goin' 
down,  down,  till  I've  got  about  as  far  down  as  I  can  get." 

'*  And  you  have  become  a  burglar  ?  '* 

"  Well,  a  man  must  live,  you  know." 

*'  You  could  work." 

"  Who  would  give  such  a  lookin*  man  as  I  any  work.?  '* 

*'  How  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  That's  my  secret !  You  mustn't  expect  me  to  give 
myself  away." 

"  And  you  had  no  idea  whose  house  you  were  in.''  " 

"  I  was  told  it  belonged  to  a  Mr.  Browning." 

"  I  am  Mr.  Browning — Thomas  Browning." 

"  You!    What  has  become  of  Butler?  " 

**  I  had  good  substantial  reasons  for  changing  my  name 
— there  was  money  in  it,  you  understand." 

"  I'd  like  to  change  my  own  name  on  them  terms.  And 
now,  Tom  Butler,  what  are  you  going  to  do  for  me  ?  " 

Mr.  Browning's  face  hardened.  He  felt  no  sympathy 
for  the  poor  wretch  with  whom  he  had  once  been  on  terms 
of  intimacy.  He  felt  ashamed  to  think  that  they  had 
ever  been  comrades,  and  he  resented  the  tone  of  familiarity 
with  which  this  outcast  addressed  him — a  reputable  citi- 
zen, a  wealthy  capitalist,  a  man  whose  name  had  been 
more  than  once  mentioned  in  connection  with  the  mayor's 
office. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  ought  to  do,"  he  said,  harshly. 

"Well?" 

"  I  ought  to  call  a  policeman,  and  give  you  in  charge 
for  entering  my  house  as  a  burglar." 

"  You'd  better  not  do  that,"  he  said  without  betraying 
alarm. 

"  Why  not  ?  Why  should  I  not  treat  you  like  any  other 
burglar  ?  " 

"  Because — ^but  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question." 

"  What  did  you  do  with  that  money  Walton  gave  you 
on  his  deathbed?  " 


JO  A  Strange  Visitor 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  he  faltered. 

"  Just  what  I  say.  What  did  you  do  with  Walton's 
money  ?  " 

"  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  your  meaning." 

"  No,  you  are  not.  However,  I  am  ready  to  explain. 
On  his  deathbed  Walton  gave  you  ten  thousand  dollars  to 
carry  to  his  wife  and  family.    Did  you  do  it  ?  " 

"Who  told  you  this?" 

"  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  say.  It  is  enough  that  I 
know  it.  At  the  time  you  were  poor  enough.  You  might 
have  had  a  few  hundred  dollars  of  your  own,  but  certainly 
not  much  more.  Now — ^it  isn't  so  many  years  ago — I 
find  you  a  rich  man.  Of  course,  I  have  my  own  ideas 
of  how  this  came  about." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  accuse  me  of  dishonesty  ?  "  demanded 
Browning,  angrily. 

"  I  don't  accuse  you  of  anything.  I  am  only  thinking  of 
what  would  be  natural  under  the  circumstances.  I'm 
not  an  angel  myself,  Tom  Butler,  and  I  can't  say  but  the 
money  might  have  miscarried  if  it  had  been  handed  to 
me  instead  of  to  you.  I  wish  it  had ;  I  wouldn't  be  the  mis- 
erable-looking wretch  I  am  now." 

"  Walton  handed  me  some  money,"  said  Browning,  cau- 
tiously— "  not  ten  thousand  dollars — ^and  I  handed  it  to 
his  family." 

"Where  did  they  live?" 

"  In  a  country  town,"  he  answered,  glibly. 

**  I  was  thinking  I  might  run  across  Mrs.  Walton  some 
day,"  he  said,  significantly.  "  She  would  be  glad  to  see 
me,  as  I  knew  her  late  husband  in  California." 

"  She  is  dead,"  said  Browning,  hastily. 

"  Dead !    How  long  since?  " 

"  She  died  soon  after  she  heard  of  her  husband's  death. 
Died  of  grief,  poor  woman !  " 

"  Were  there  no  children  ?  " 

**  Yes,  there  was  a  girl,  but  she  was  adopted  by  a  rela- 
tive in  Massachusetts." 

**  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it ! "  thought  Jack  King. 
"He  wants  to  put  me  ojff  the  scent." 


A  Strange  Visitor  71 

**  Humph !    And  you  gave  the  wife  the  money?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  I  may  meet  the  girl  some  time ;  I  might  advertise 
for  any  of  the  family." 

"  Do  you  think  they  would  be  glad  to  see  you?  " 

"  They  might  help  me,  and  I  stand  in  need  of  help." 

"  There  is  no  need  of  that.  You  are  an  old  comrade 
in  distress.  I  haven't  forgotten  the  fact,  though  I  pre- 
tended to,  to  try  you.  Here's  a  five-dollar  bill.  I'll  let 
you  out  of  the  house  myself.  Considering  how  you  en- 
tered it,  you  may  count  yourself  lucky." 

"  That's  all  right,  as  far  as  it  goes,  Tom,  but  I  want 
to  remind  you  of  a  little  debt  you  owe  me.  When  you 
were  out  of  luck  at  Murphy's  diggings  I  lent  you  twenty- 
five  dollars,  which  you  have  never  paid  back." 

"  I  had  forgotten  it." 

"  I  haven't.  That  money  will  come  mighty  convenient 
just  now.  It  will  buy  me  a  better-looking  suit,  second- 
hand, and  make  a  different  man  of  me.  With  it  I  can 
get  a  place  and  set  up  for  a  respectable  human  being." 

*'  Here's  the  money,"  said  Browning,  reluctantly  draw- 
ing the  additional  bills  from  his  wallet.  "  Now  that  we 
are  square,  I  hope  you  won't  annoy  me  by  further  appli- 
cations. I  might  have  sent  you  out  of  the  house  under 
very  different  circumstances." 

"  You  were  always  considerate,  Tom,"  said  the  tramp, 
stowing  away  the  bills  in  the  pocket  of  his  ragged  vest. 
"  May  I  refer  to  you  if  I  apply  for  a  situation  ?  " 

*'  Yes ;  but  remember  I  am  Thomas  Browning.  I  pre- 
fer not  to  have  it  known  that  my  name  was  ever  Butler." 

"  All  right !  Now,  if  you'U  do  me  the  favor  of  showing 
me  the  door  I'll  leave  you  to  your  slumbers." 

"  It's  very  awkward,  that  man's  turning  up,"  muttered 
Browning,  as  he  returned  from  letting  out  his  unsavory 
visitor.  "  How  could  he  have  heard  about  Walton's 
money?  " 


72  How  Jack  King  Fared 

CHAPTER   XVIII 

HOW    JACK    KING    FARED 

Jack  King  left  the  house  with  the  money  Browning 
had  unwillingly  given  him.  He  sought  a  cheap  lodging 
and  the  next  morning  proceeded  to  make  himself  respect- 
able. When  he  had  donned  some  clean  linen,  a  suit  of 
clothes  which  he  bought  cheap  at  a  second-hand  store, 
taken  a  bath,  and  called  into  requisition  the  services  of  a 
barber,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  recognize  him  as  the 
same  man  who  had  emerged  from  under  the  bed  of  the 
well-known  philanthropist,  a  typical  tramp  and  would-be 
burglar. 

Jack  King  counted  over  the  balance  of  his  money,  and 
found  that  he  had  nine  dollars  and  thirty-seven  cents 
left. 

"  This  won't  support  me  forever,"  he  reflected.  "  I 
must  get  something  to  do." 

While  sauntering  along,  he  fell  in  with  an  old  acquaint- 
ance named  Stone. 

"  What  are  you  up  to.  King  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Looking  for  a  job." 

"  You  are  my  man,  then.  I  am  keeping  a  cigar  store 
at  the  Prairie  Hotel,  but  I  have  some  business  calling  me 
away  from  the  city  for  six  weeks  or  two  months.  WiU  you 
take  my  place  ?  " 

"  What  are  the  inducements  ?  " 

"  Board  and  lodging  and  five  dollars  a  week." 

"  Agreed." 

"  Come  over,  then,  and  I  will  show  you  the  place." 

The  hotel  was  a  cheap  one,  not  far  from  the  railway 
station,  and  though  comfortable,  was  not  patronized  by 
fastidious  travelers. 

"  When  do  you  want  me  to  take  hold.'' "  he  asked. 

"  To-morrow." 

"  AU  right." 

"  Come  around  at  ten  o'clock.  I  want  to  leave  Mil- 
waukee in  the  afternoon." 


How  Jack  King  Fared  73 

King  could  not  help  reflecting  about  the  extraordinary 
prosperity  of  his  old  comrade,  Tom  Butler,  now  Thomas 
Browning,  Esq. 

"What  does  it  mean?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  He  seemed 
very  uneasy  when  I  asked  him  about  Walton's  money.  I 
believe  he  kept  it  himself.  I  wish  I  knew.  If  I  could  prove 
it,  it  would  be  a  gold  mine  for  me.  I  must  make  inquiries, 
and,  if  possible,  find  out  Walton's  family." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  Thomas  Browning "  he 
asked  Stone. 

"The  philanthropist?     Yes.     What  of  him?  " 

"  I  called  on  him  last  evening." 

Jack  did  not  think  it  best  to  mention  the  circumstances 
of  his  visit. 

"  Indeed !    How  did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  In  California." 

"  I  suppose  he  laid  the  foundation  of  his  fortune  there." 

"  Is  he  so  rich,  then?  " 

"  Yes,  probably  worth  a  quarter  of  a  million." 

This  was  an  exaggeration,  but  rich  men's  wealth  is 
generally  overstated. 

"  How  does  he  stand  in  the  city  ?  "     ' 

**  First-class.  He  has  been  mentioned  for  mayor.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  might  get  the  office  some  day." 

"  He  has  certainly  been  very  lucky." 

"  I  should  say  so. .   Was  he  rich  in  California  ?  " 

"  Not  when  I  knew  him.  At  one  time  there  he  had 
to  borrow  money  of  me.    He  paid  me  back  last  evening." 

"  He  is  on  the  top  of  the  ladder  now,  at  any  rate." 

"  His  respectability  would  suffer  a  little,"  thought  Jack 
King,  "  if  I  could  prove  that  he  had  appropriated  Wal- 
ton's money.  I  must  think  the  matter  over,  and  secure 
some  information  if  I  can." 

The  next  Sunday  evening  he  called  at  the  house  of  the 
philanthropist,  and  sent  in  his  name. 

Thomas  Browning  went  himself  to  the  door.  He  was 
afraid  King  might  be  wearing  the  same  disreputable  suit 
in  which  he  had  made  his  former  visit.  But  to  his  relief 
his  visitor  looked  quite  respectable. 


74  How  Jack  King  Fared 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  me?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  but  only  for  a  social  call.  I  am  not  acquainted 
in  Milwaukee,  and  it  does  me  good  to  see  an  old  friend 
and  comrade." 

"  I  have  not  much  time  to  spare,  but  come  in !  " 

They  went  into  the  philanthropist's  library,  formerly 
described. 

"  Have  you  found  anything  to  do-f*  "  asked  Browning. 

«  Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

King  answered  the  question. 

"  It  is  not  much,"  he  added,  "  but  will  do  for  the 
present." 

"  At  any  rate,  it  is  considerably  better  than  entering 
a  house  at  night  and  hiding  under  the  bed,"  said  Brown- 
ing, dryly. 

"  So  it  is,"  answered  King,  smiling.  "  You  must  make 
allowance  for  my  destitute  condition.  I  little  thought  that 
I  was  in  the  house  of  an  old  friend.  I  have  been  asking 
about  you,  Tom  Butler — I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Browning — 
and  I  find  that  you  stand  very  high  in  Milwaukee." 

A  shade  of  annoyance  showed  itself  on  the  philanthro- 
pist's face  when  King  referred  to  him  under  his  former 
name,  but  witen  his  high  standing  was  referred  to  he  smiled 
complacently. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  win 
the  good  opinion  of  my  fellow-citizens." 

"  Some  one  told  me  that  you  would  probably  run  for 
mayor  some  day." 

"  It  ma  J  be.     I  have  been  sounded  on  the  subject." 

"  The  worst  of  running  for  office  is  that  if  a  man  has 
ever  done  anything  discreditable  it  is  sure  to  be  brought 
out  against  him." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  mean  to  imply  that  I  have  ever  done 
anything  discreditable,"  said  Browning,  sharply. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no !  How  could  I  think  such  a  thing?  But 
sometimes  false  charges  are  brought.  If  you  had  ever  be- 
trayed a  trust,  or  kept  money  belonging  to  another,  of 
course,  it  would  hurt  you." 


A  Sensational  Incident  j^ 

"  Certainly  it  would,"  said  the  philanthropist,  his  voice 
betraying  some  nervousness,  "  but  I  am  glad  to  say  that 
my  conscience  is  clear  on  that  point," 

"  By  the  way,  Jack,  let  me  send  for  a  bottle  of  wine," 
We'll  drink  to  the  memory  of  old  time." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Tom.  I  see  you're  the  right  sort. 
When  you  are  nominated  for  office  I  will  work  for  you." 

Browning  smiled  graciously  on  his  visitor,  and  the  inter- 
view closed  pleasantly. 

"  He's  afraid  of  me ! ''  thought  Jack,  as  he  left  the 
house. 

CHAPTER    XIX 

A    SENSATIONAIi    INCIDENT 

When  Luke  brought  home  the  dress  pattern  his  mother 
was  much  pleased. 

"  I  have  needed  a  dress  for  a  good  while,"  she  said, 
"  but  I  never  felt  that  I  could  spare  the  money  to  buy  even 
a  common  one.     This  material  is  very  nice." 

"  It  cost  seventy-five  cents  a  yard.  I  was  with  Mrs. 
Merton  when  she  bought  it." 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  hint  to  Mrs.  Merton  that  I  needed 
one." 

"  No,  that  isn't  like  me,  mother,  but  I  own.  that  I  was 
very  glad  when  she  thought  of  it." 

"  Please  tell  her  how  grateful  I  am." 

"  I  will  certainly  do  so.  Now,  mother,  I  want  you  to 
have  it  made  up  at  once.  I  can  spare  the  money  neces- 
sary." 

"  It  will  cost  very  little.  I  will  have  it  cut  by  a  dress- 
maker and  make  it  up  myself.  I  hope  you  will  long  retain 
the  friendship  of  Mrs.  Merton." 

"  It  won't  by  my  fault  if  I  don't.  But  I  can't  help  see- 
ing that  her  niece,  Mrs.  Tracy,  and  Harold,  a  boy  about 
my  age,  look  upon  me  with  dislike." 

"  Why  should  they  ?  I  don't  see  how  anyone  can  dis- 
like you." 

**  You  are  my  mother  and  are  prejudiced  in  my  favor. 


76  A  Sensational  Incident 

But  I  am  sure  they  have  no  reason  to  dislike  me.  I  think, 
however,  they  are  jealous,  and  fear  the  old  lady  will  look 
upon  me  with  too  much  favor.  She  is  very  rich,  I  hear, 
and  they  expect  to  inherit  all  her  fortune." 

"Money  makes  people  mean  and  unjust." 

"  If  I  can  only  get  hold  of  some,  I'll  run  the  risk  of 
that,"  said  Luke.  "  I  should  feel  a  good  deal  more  com- 
fortable if  I  hadn't  two  enemies  in  the  house." 

"  Do  your  duty,  my  son,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God.  It 
isn't  well  to  borrow  trouble." 

"  No  doubt  you  are  right,  mother.  I  will  follow  your 
advice." 

The  next  morning  Luke  was  at  his  usual  stand  near 
the  Sherman  House  when  a  boy  who  was  passing  uttered 
a  slight  exclamation  of  surprise.  Looking  up,  Luke 
recognized  Harold  Tracy. 

"  So  it's  you,  is  it?  "  said  Harold,  not  over  politely. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Luke.     "  I  hope  you  are  well." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  a  newsboy." 

"  I  spend  a  part  of  my  time  in  selling  papers." 

"  Does  Mrs.  Merton  know  you  are  a  newsboy  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  have  told  her,  but  I  am  not  certain." 

"  It  must  be  inconvenient  for  you  to  come  so  far  as  our 
house  every  day?  " 

"  Of  course  it  takes  up  some  time,  but  Mrs.  Merton 
does  not  allow  me  to  work  for  nothing." 

"  How  much  does  Aunt  Eliza  pay  you?  " 

"  I  would  rather  you  would  ask  Mrs.  Merton.  I  am 
not  sure  that  she  would  care  to  have  me  tell." 

"  You  seem  to  forget  that  I  am  her  nephew — that  is, 
her  grandnephew.  It  is  hardly  likely  she  would  keep  such 
a  thing  secret  from  me." 

"  That  may  be,  but  I  would  rather  you  would  ask  her." 

"  Does  she  pay  you  more  than  two  dollars  a  week?  " 

"  Again  I  must  refer  you  to  her." 

"  It  is  ridiculous  to  make  a  secret  of  such  a  trifle,"  said 
Harold,  annoyed. 

"  How  much  do  you  make  selling  papers  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  averaged  about  seventy-five  cents  a  day  before  I 


A  Sensational  Incident  77 

began  to  work  for  Mrs.  Merton.     Now  I  don't  make  as 
much." 

"  Wliy  don't  you  black  boots,  too?  Many  of  the  news- 
boys do?  " 

"  I  never  cared  to  take  up  that  business." 

"  If  you  should  go  into  it,  I  would  give  you  a  job  now 
and  then." 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  go  into  that  business,  but  I  shall 
be  glad  to  sell  you  a  paper  whenever  you  need  one." 

"You  are  not  too  proud  to  black  boots,  are  you?" 
persisted  Harold. 

"  I  don't  think  it  necessary  to  answer  that  question.  I 
have  always  got  along  without  it  so  far." 

Harold  carried  the  news  home  to  his  mother  that  Luke 
was  a  newsboy,  and  Mrs.  Tracy  found  an  opportunity 
to  mention  it  at  the  supper  table. 

"  Harold  saw  your  paragon  this  morning.  Aunt  Eliza," 
she  commenced. 

"  Have  I  a  paragon  ?  I  really  wasn't  aware  of  it," 
returned  the  old  lady. 

*'  Your  errand  boy." 

"  Oh,  Luke.    Where  did  you  see  him,  Harold  ?  " 

"  He  was  selling  papers  near  the  Sherman  House." 

"  I  hope  you  bought  one  of  him." 

"  I  didn't  have  any  change." 

"  Did  you  know  he  was  a  newsboy,  Atmt  Eliza  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Tracy. 

"  Yes ;  he  told  me  so.  You  speak  of  it  as  if  it  were 
something  to  his  discredit." 

"  It  is  a  low  business,  of  course." 

"  Why  is  it  a  low  business  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  of  course  it  is  only  poor  street  boys  wKo 
engage  in  it." 

"  I  am  aware  that  Luke  is  poor,  and  that  he  h&s  to  con- 
tribute to  the  support  of  his  mother  and  brother.  I  hope, 
if  you  were  poor,  that  Harold  would  be  willing  to  worK 
for  you." 

"  I  wouldn't  sell  papers,"  put  in  Harold. 

"  I  don't  suppose  Luke  sells  papers  from  choice." 
6kk  -  - 


78  A  Sensational  Incident 

"  Aunt  Eliza,  I  don't  see  why  you  should  so  persistently 
compare  Harold  with  that  ragged  errand  boy  of  yours." 

"  Is  he  ragged?  I  am  glad  you  noticed  it.  I  must  help 
him  to  a  new  suit." 

This  was  far  from  a  welcome  suggestion  to  Mrs.  Tracy, 
and  she  made  haste  to  add :  "  I  don't  think  he's  ragged. 
He  dresses  well  enough  for  his  position  in  life." 

"  Still,  I  think  he  needs  some  new  clothes,  and  I  thank 
you  for  suggesting  it,  Louisa." 

The  next  day,  Luke,  to  his  surprise,  was  asked  to  ac- 
company Mrs.  Merton  to  a  ready-made  clothing  house 
on  Clark  Street,  where  he  was  presented  with  a  fine  suit, 
costing  twenty  dollars. 

"  How  kind  you  are,  Mrs.  Merton !  "  said  Luke. 

"  I  didn't  notice  that  you  needed  a  new  suit,"  returned 
the  old  lady,  "  but  my  niece,  Mrs.  Tracy,  spoke  of  it, 
and  I  was  glad  to  take  the  hint." 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  that  Luke, 
having  an  errand  that  carried  him  near  the  lake  shore, 
strolled  to  the  end  of  North  Pier.  He  was  fond  of  the 
water,  but  seldom  had  an  opportunity  to  go  out  on  it. 

"  How  are  you,  Luke  ?  "  said  a  boy  in  a  flat-bottomed 
boat  a  few  rods  away. 

In  the  boy  who  hailed  him  Luke  recognized  John  Ha- 
gan,  an  acquaintance  of  about  his  own  age. 

"  Won't  you  come  aboard  ?  "  asked  John. 

"  I  don't  mind,  if  you'll  come  near  enough." 

In  five  minutes  Luke  found  himself  on  board  the  boat. 
He  took  the  oars  and  reheved  John,  who  was  disposed  to 
rest. 

They  rowed  hither  and  thither,  never  very  far  from 
the  pier.  Not  far  away  was  a  boat  of  the  same  build,  oc- 
cupied by  a  man  of  middle  size,  whose  eccentric  actions 
attracted  their  attention.  Now  he  would  talie  the  oars 
and  row  with  feverish  haste,  nearly  fifty  strokes  to  a 
minute ;  then  he  would  let  his  oars  trail,  and  seem  wrapped 
in  thought.  Suddenly  the  boys  were  startled  to  see  him 
spring  to  his  feet  and,  flinging  up  his  arms,  leap  head 
iirst  into  the  lake. 


Ambrose  Kean's  Imprudence  79 


CHAPTER    XX 

AMBROSE    KEAn's    IMPRUDENCE 

Luke  and  his  companion  were  startled  by  the  sudden 
attempt  at  suicide,  and  for  an  instant  sat  motionless  in 
their  boat.    Luke  was  the  first  to  regain  his  self-possession. 

"  Quick,  let  us  try  to  save  him,"  he  called  to  John 
Hagan. 

They  plunged  their  oars  into  the  water,  and  the  boat 
bounded  over  the  waves.  Fortunately  they  were  but  half 
a  dozen  rods  from  the  place  where  the  would-be  suicide 
was  now  struggling  to  keep  himself  up.  For,  as  fre- 
quently happens,  when  he  actually  found  himself  in  the 
water,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  impelled  the  would- 
be  self-destroyer  to  attempt  to  save  himself.  He  could 
swim  a  very  little,  but  the  waters  of  the  lake  were  in 
lively  motion,  his  boat  had  floated  away,  and  he  would 
inevitably  have  drowned  but  for  the  energetic  action  of 
Luke  and  John.  They  swept  their  boat  alongside,  and 
Luke  thrust  his  oar  in  the  direction  of  the  struggling 
man. 

"  Take  hold  of  it,"  he  said,  "  and  we  will  tow  you  to 
your  own  boat." 

Guided  and  sustained  by  the  oar,  the  man  gripped  the 
side  of  Luke's  boat,  leaving  the  oar  free.  His  weight 
nearly  overbalanced  the  craft,  but  with  considerable  diffi- 
culty the  boys  succeeded  in  reaching  the  other  boat,  and, 
though  considerably  exhausted,  its  late  occupant  man- 
aged to  get  in. 

As  he  took  his  place  in  the  boat  he  presented  a  sorry 
spectacle,  for  his  clothes  were  wet  through  and  dripping. 

"  You  will  take  your  death  of  cold  unless  you  go  on 
shore  at  once,"  said  Luke. 

"  It  wouldn't  matter  much  if  I  did,"  said  the  young 
man,  gloomily. 

"  We  will  row  to  shore  also,"  said  Luke  to  John  Hagan. 
"  He  may  make  another  attempt  to  drown  himself.  I 
will  see  what  I  can  do  to  reason  him  out  of  it." 


8o  Ambrose  Kean's  Imprudence 

They  were  soon  at  the  pier,  and  the  three  landed. 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  asked  Luke,  taking  his  position 
beside  the  young  man. 

The  latter  named  a  number  on  Vine  Street.  It  was  at 
a  considerable  distance,  and  time  was  precious,  for  the 
young  man  was  trembling  from  the  effects  of  his  immersion. 

*'  There  is  no  time  to  lose.  We  must  take  a  carriage," 
said  Luke. 

He  summoned  one,  which  fortunately  had  just  returned 
from  the  pier,  to  which  it  had  conveyed  a  passenger,  and 
the  two  jumped  in. 

Luke  helped  him  up  to  his  room,  a  small  one  on  the 
third  floor,  and  remained  until  he  had  changed  his  clothes 
and  was  reclining  on  the  bed. 

"  You  ought  to  have  some  hot  drink,"  he  said.  "  Can 
any  be  got  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Mrs.  Woods,  the  landlady,  will  have  some  hot 
water." 

Luke  went  downstairs  and  succeeded  in  enlisting  the 
sympathetic  assistance  of  the  kind-hearted  woman  by 
representing  that  her  lodger  had  been  upset  in  the  lake 
and  was  in  danger  of  a  severe  cold. 

When  the  patient  had  taken  down  a  cup  of  hot  drink, 
he  turned  to  Luke  and  said :  "  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  need  to  thank  me.  I  am  glad  I  was  at 
hand  when  you  needed  me." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

«  Luke  Walton." 

*'  Mine  is  Ambrose  Kean.    You  must  think  I  am  a  fool." 

*'  I  think,"  said  Luke,  gently,  "  that  you  have  some 
cause  of  unhappiness." 

"  You  are  right  there.  I  have  been  unfortunate,  but 
I  am  also  an  offender  against  the  law,  and  it  was  the  fear 
of  exposure  and  arrest  that  made  me  take  the  step  I  did. 
I  thought  I  was  ready  to  die,  but  when  I  found  myself 
in  the  water  life  seemed  dearer  than  it  had  before,  and  I 
tried  to  escape.  Thanks  to  you,  I  am  alive,  but  now  I 
almost  wish  that  I  had  succeeded.  I  don't  know  how  to 
face  what  is  before  me." 


Ambrose  Kean's  Imprudence  8i 

**  Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

**  No ;  I  need  someone  to  confide  in,  and  you  deserve  my 
confidence.  Let  me  tell  you,  then,  that  I  am  employed  in 
an  office  on  Dearborn  Street.  My  pay  is  small,  twelve 
dollars  a  week,  but  it  would  be  enough  to  support  me  if 
I  had  only  myself  to  look  out  for.  But  I  have  a  mother 
in  Milwaukee,  and  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  sending  her 
four  dollars  a  week.  That  left  me  only  eight  dollars,  which 
I  found  it  hard  to  live  on,  and  there  was  nothing  left  for 
clothes." 

"  I  can  easily  believe  that,"  said  Luke. 

"  I  struggled  along,  however,  as  best  I  might,  but  last 
week  I  received  a  letter  from  my  mother  saying  that  she 
was  sick.  Of  course  her  expenses  were  increased,  and  she 
wrote  to  know  if  I  could  send  her  a  little  extra  money. 
I  have  been  living  so  close  up  to  my  income  that  I  abso- 
lutely had  less  than  a  dollar  in  my  pocket.  Unfortu- 
nately, temptation  came  at  a  time  when  I  was  least  pre- 
pared to  resist  it.  One  of  our  customers  from  the  country 
came  in  when  I  was  alone,  and  paid  me  fifty  dollars  in 
bills,  for  which  I  gave  him  a  receipt.  No  one  saw  the 
payment  made.  It  flashed  upon  me  that  this  sum  would 
make  my  mother  comfortable  even  if  her  sickness  lasted  a 
considerable  time.  Without  taking  time  to  think,  I  went 
to  an  express  office,  and  forwarded  to  her  a  package  con- 
taining the  bills.  It  started  yesterday,  and  by  this  time 
is  in  my  mother's  hand§.  You  see  the  situation  I  am  placed 
in.  The  one  who  paid  the  money  may  come  to  the  office 
at  any  time  and  reveal  my  guilt." 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  were  dispirited,"  returned 
Luke.  "  But  can  nothing  be  done.?  Can  you  not  replace 
the  money  in  time?  " 

"  How  can  I?    I  have  told  you  how  small  my  salary  is.'* 

*'  Have  you  no  friend  or  friends  from  whom  you  could 
borrow  the  money  ?  " 

"  I  know  of  none.  I  have  few  friends,  and  such  as  they 
are,  are,  like  myself,  dependent  on  small  pay.  I  must  tell 
you,  by  the  way,  how  we  became  poor.  My  mother 
had  a  few  thousand  dollars,  which,  added  to  my  earnings. 


82  A  Friend  in  Need 

would  have  made  us  comparatively  independent,  but  in  an 
evil  hour  she  invested  them  in  a  California  mine,  on  the 
strength  of  the  indorsement  of  a  well-known  financier  of 
Milwaukee,  Mr.  Thomas  Browning " 

"  Who?  "  asked  Luke,  in  surprise. 

"  Thomas  Browning.     Do  you  know  him?  " 

"  I  have  seen  him.  He  sometimes  comes  to  Chicago,  and 
stops  at  the  Sherman  House." 

"  He  recommended  the  stock  so  highly — ^in  fact,  he  was 
the  president  of  the  company  that  put  it  on  the  market 
— that  my  poor  mother  thought  it  all  right,  and  invested 
all  she  had.  The  stock  was  two  dollars  a  share.  Now  it 
would  not  fetch  two  cents.  This  it  was  that  reduced  us 
to  such  extreme  poverty." 

"  Do  you  think  Mr.  Browning  was  honest  in  his  recom- 
mendation of  the  mine?  "  asked  Luke,  thoughtfully. 

"  I  don't  know.  He  claimed  to  be  the  principal  loser 
himself.  But  it  is  rather  remarkable  that  he  is  living  like 
a  rich  man  now.  Hundreds  lost  their  money  through  this 
mine.     As  Mr.   Browning  had  himself  been  in  Califor- 


"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Luke,  in  excitement.  "  You  say 
this  Browning  was  once  in  California?  Can  you  tell  when?" 

"  Half  a  dozen  years  ago,  more  or  less." 

"  And  he  looks  like  the  man  to  whom  my  poor  father 
confided  ten  thousand  dollars  for  us,"  thought  Luke.  "  It 
is  very  strange.  Everything  tallies  but  the  name.  The 
wretch  who  swindled  us  was  named  Butler." 

"  Why  do  you  ask  when  Mr.  Browning  was  in  Cali- 
fornia? "  asked  the  young  man. 

"  Because  my  father  died  in  California,"  answered  Luke, 
evasively,  "  and  I  thought  it  possible  that  Mr.  Browning 
might  have  met  him." 

CHAPTER    XXI 

A    FRIEND    IN    NEED 

"  Mr.  Browning  is  a  man  of  very  peculiar  appearance," 
said  Kean. 


A  Friend  in  Need  83 

"  You  refer  to  the  wart  on  the  upper  part  of  his  right 
cheek?  " 

"  Yes,  it  gives  him  a  repulsive  look." 

"  And  yet  he  is  popular  in  Milwaukee  ?  " 

"  Yes,  among  those  who  were  not  swindled  by  his  min- 
ing scheme.  He  has  done  more  harm  than  he  can  ever 
repair.  For  instance,"  added  the  young  man,  bitterly, 
"  this  crime  which  I  have  committed — I  will  call  it  by  its 
right  name — I  was  impelled  to  do  by  my  mother's  poverty, 
brought  on  by  him." 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  not  at  the  office  to- 
day.? " 

"  I  felt  sick — sick  at  heart,  rather  than  sick  in  body, 
and  I  sent  word  to  my  employer  that  I  could  not  be  there. 
I  dread  entering  the  office,  for  at  any  time  exposure  may 
come." 

"  If  you  could  only  raise  the  fifty  dollars,  you  could 
replace  the  money  before  it  was  inquired  for." 

Ambrose  Kean  shook  his  head. 

"  I  can't  possibly  raise  it,"  he  said,  despondently. 

"  I  would  let  you  have  it  if  I  possessed  as  much  money, 
but,  as  you  may  suppose,  I  am  poor." 

"  I  am  no  less  grateful  to  you,  Luke.  You  have  a  good 
heart,  I  am  sure.     You  don't  despise  me  ?  " 

"No,  why  should  I.?" 

"  I  have  been  guilty  of  a  crime." 

"  But  you  are  sorry  for  it.  Is  there  positively  no  one 
with  whom  you  are  acquainted  who  is  rich  enough  to  help 
you  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  lady  in  Chicago — a  rich  lady — ^who  was 
a  schoolmate  of  my  mother.  She  was  older  and  in  better 
circumstances,  but  they  were  good  friends." 

"Who  is  this  lady.?" 

"  A  Mrs.  Merton." 

"  Mrs.  Merton !  "  exclaimed  Luke,'  in  excitement.  *'  Of, 
Prairie  Avenue  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  believe  she  lives  there." 

"  Why,  I  know  her — I  am  in  her  employ,"  said  Luke. 

Ambrose  Kean  stared  at  Luke  in  open  amazement. 


84  A  Friend  in  Need 

"  Is  this  true  ?  "  he  asked. 

«  Yes." 

"Is  she  a  kind  lady?  Do  you  think  she  would  help 
me  in  this  trouble  of  mine?  " 

*'  She  is  very  kind-hearted,  as  I  know  from  my  own  ex- 
perience.   I  will  go  to  her  at  once,  and  see  what  I  can  do." 

Ambrose  Kean  grasped  Luke's  hand  with  fervor. 

"  You  are  a  friend  sent  from  heaven,  I  truly  believe," 
he  said.     "  You  have  given  me  hope  of  retrieving  myself." 

"  I  will  leave  you  for  a  time,"  said  Luke.  *'  There  is  no 
time  to  be  lost." 

"  I  shall  be  full  of  anxiety  till  I  see  you  again." 

"  Be  hopeful.    I  think  I  shall  bring  you  good  news." 

When  Luke  reached  the  house  on  Prairie  Avenue  he  was 
about  to  ring  the  bell  when  Harold  Tracy  opened  the  door. 

"  You  here  again ! "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  displeasure. 
**  Weren't  you  here  this  morning.?  " 

"  Yes." 

*'  Did  Aimt  Eliza  ask  you  to  come  this  afternoon }  " 

"  No." 

*'  Then  what  brings  you  ?  " 

*'  Business,"  answered  Luke,  curtly,  and  he  quietly  en- 
tered the  hall,  and  said  to  a  servant  who  was  passing 
through,  "  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  ask  Mrs.  Merton 
if  she  will  see  me.^*  " 

"  Well,  you're  cheeky!  "  ejaculated  Harold,  who  had  in- 
tended to  keep  him  out. 

"  As  long  as  Mrs.  Merton  doesn't  think  so,  I  shall  not 
trouble  myself,"  said  Luke,  coldly. 

"  Sooner  or  later  Aunt  Eliza  will  see  you  in  your  true 
colors,"  said  Harold,  provoked. 

"  I  think  she  does  now." 

At  this  moment  the  servant  returned. 

"  You  are  to  go  upstairs,"  she  said.  "  Mrs.  Merton  will 
see  you." 

The  old  lady  was  sitting  back  in  an  easy-chair  when 
Luke  entered.     She  smiled  pleasantly. 

"  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,"  she  said,  "  this  after- 
noon call." 


A  Iriend  in  Need  85 

"  I  will  tell  you  at  once  what  brought  me,  Mrs.  Merton." 

"It  isn't  sickness  at  home,  I  hope?" 

*'  No,  I  came  for  a  comparative  stranger." 

Then  Luke  told  the  story  of  Ambrose  Kean,  his  sudden 
yielding  to  temptation,  his  repentance  and  remorse. 

"  I  am  interested  in  your  friend,"  said  Mrs.  Merton. 
*'  You  say  he  appropriated  fifty  dollars  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  to  help  his  mother." 

"  True,  but  it  was  a  dangerous  step  to  take.  It  won't 
be  considered  a  valid  excuse." 

"  He  realizes  all  that.  His  employer  is  a  just  but 
strict  man,  and  if  the  theft  is  discovered  Kean  will  be  ar- 
rested, and,  of  course,  convicted." 

"  And  you  think  I  will  help  him.''  Is  that  why  you 
have  come  to  me  with  this  story?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  would  have  done  so  if  he  had  not  men- 
tioned you  as  an  old  friend  and  schoolmate  of  his  mother." 

"What's  that?"  added  Mrs.  Merton,  quickly.  "His 
mother  an  old  schoolmate  of  mine?  " 

"  That  is  what  he  says." 

"  What  was  her  name — ^before  marriage  ?  " 

"  Mary  Robinson." 

"  You  don't  say  so ! "  Mrs.  Merton  exclaimed  with 
vivacity.  "  Why,  Mary  was  my  favorite  at  school.  And 
this  young  man  is  her  son  ? 

"  I  would  have  helped  him  without  knowing  this,  but 
now  I  won't  hesitate  a  moment.  Mary's  boy !  You  must 
bring  him  here.     I  want  to  question  him  about  her." 

"  I  can  tell  you  something  about  her.  She  lost  her 
money  by  investing  in  a  California  mine — ^I  think  it  was 
the  Excelsior  Mine." 

"She,  too?" 

Luke  looked  surprised.  He  did  not  understand  the 
meaning  of  this  exclamation. 

"  I  have  a  thousand  shares  of  that  worthless  stock  my- 
self," continued  the  old  lady.  "  It  cost  me  two  thousand 
dollars,  and  now  it  is  worth  nothing." 

"  The  one  who  introduced  the  stock  was  a  Mr.  Brown- 
ing, of  Milwaukee." 


86         How  Ambrose  Kean  Was  Saved 

"  I  know.  He  was  an  unscrupulous  knave,  I  have  no 
doubt.  I  could  afford  the  loss,  but  hundreds  invested, 
like  poor  Mary,  who  were  ruined.  Is  the  man  living,  do 
you  know?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  living  in  Milwaukee.  He  is  rich,  and  is 
prominently  spoken  of  as  a  candidate  for  mayor." 

"  If  he  is  ever  a  candidate  I  will  take  care  that  his 
connection  with  this  swindling  transaction  is  made  known. 
A  man  who  builds  up  a  fortune  on  the  losses  of  the  poor 
is  a  contemptible  wretch,  in  my  opinion."  ' 

'*  And  mine,  too,"  said  Luke.  "  It  is  very  strange  that 
he  answers  the  description  of  a  man  who  cheated  our 
family  out  of  ten  thousand  dollars." 

"Indeed!    How  was  that?" 

Luke  told  the  story,  and  Mrs.  Merton  hstened  witH 
great  interest. 

"  So  all  corresponds  except  the  name?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  He  may  have  changed  his  name." 

"  I  have  thought  of  that.    I  mean  to  find  out  some  time." 

"  I  won't  keep  you  any  longer.  Your  friend  is,  no: 
doubt,  in  great  anxiety.  I  have  the  money  here  in  bills. 
I  will  give  them  to  you  for  him." 

Mrs.  Merton  was  in  the  act  of  handing  a  roll  of  bills 
to  Luke  when  the  door  opened  suddenly,  and  Mrs.  Tracy 
entered. 

She  frowned  in  surprise  and  displeasure  when  she  saw 
her  aunt  giving  money  to  "  that  boy,"  as  she  contemp- 
tuously called  him. 

CHAPTER    XXII 

HOW    AMBROSE    KEAN    WAS    SAVED 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  occupied.  Aunt  Eliza,"  said 
Mrs.  Tracy,  in  a  significant  tone,  as  she  paused  at  the 
door. 

"  My  business  is  not  private,"  returned  the  old  lady. 
"  come  in,  Louisa." 


How  Ambrose  Kean  Was  Saved         87 

Mrs.  Tracy  did  come  in,  but  she  regarded  Luke  witK 
a  hostile  and  suspicious  glance. 

"  That  is  all,  Luke,"  said  his  patroness.  "  You  may 
go.    You  can  report  to  me  to-morrow." 

"  All  right,  ma'am." 

When  Luke  had  left  the  room,  Mrs.  Tracy  said :  "  You 
appear  to  repose  a  great  deal  of  confidence  in  that  boy." 

"  Yes  ;  I  think  he  deserves  it." 

Mrs.  Tracy  coughed. 

"  You  seem  to  trust  him  with  a  great  deal  of  money." 

«  Yes." 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  want  to  interfere,  but  I  think  you 
will  need  to  be  on  your  guard.  He  is  evidently  bent  on 
getting  all  he  can  out  of  you." 

''That  is  your  judgment,  is  it,  Louisa.?  " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Eliza,  since  you  ask  me." 

"  He  has  done  me  a  service  this  morning.  He  has 
brought  to  my  notice  a  son  of  one  of  my  old  school- 
mates who  is  in  a  strait,  and  I  have  just  sent  him  fifty 
dollars." 

"By  that  boy.?" 

"Yes.    Why  not.?" 

"  Are  you  sure  the  person  to  whom  you  sent  the  money 
will  ever  get  it .?  " 

"  Please  speak  out  what  you  mean.  Don't  hint.  I 
hate  hints." 

"  In  plain  terms,  then,  I  think  the  boy  will  keep  the 
money  himself,  or,  at  any  rate,  a  part  of  it." 

"  I  don't  fear  it." 

"  Have  you  any  more  to  say.?  " 

"  Nothing,  except  to  warn  you  against  that  designing 
boy." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Louisa,  but  I  am  not  quite  a  sim- 
pleton. I  have  seen  something  of  the  world,  and  I  don't 
think  I  am  easily  taken  in." 
'  Mrs.  Tracy  left  the  room,  not  very  well  satisfied.  She 
really  thought  Luke  had  designs  upon  the  old  lady's 
money,  and  was  averse  even  to  his  receiving  a  legacy,  since 
it  would  take  so  much  from  Harold  and  herself. 


88         How  Ambrose  Kean  Was  Saved 

"  Harold,  when  I  entered  your  aunt's  room,  what  do 
you  think  I  saw?  " 

This  she  said  to  Harold,  who  was  waiting  below. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Aunt  Eliza  was  giving  money  to  that  boy." 

"  Do  you  know  how  much?  " 

"  Fifty  dollars." 

"  Whew !    Was  it  for  himself?  " 

"  He  came  to  her  with  a  trumped-up  story  of  an  old 
schoolmate  of  aunt's  who  was  in  need  of  money." 

*'  Do  you  think  he  will  keep  it  himself?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  so." 

"  What  a  cheeky  young  rascal  he  is,  to  be  sure !  I  have 
no  doubt  you  are  right." 

"  Yes ;  there  is  too  much  reason  to  think  he  is  an  un-* 
scrupulous  adventurer,  young  as  he  is." 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  aunt  so  ?  " 

"  I  have." 

"  And  what  does  she  say  ?  " 

**  It  doesn't  make  the  least  impression  upon  her." 

"  What  do  you  think  the  boy  will  do?  " 

"  Get  her  to  make  a  will  in  his  favor,  or  at  least  ta 
leave  him  a  large  legacy." 

Harold  turned  pale. 

"  That  would  be  robbing  us,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course  it  would.  He  wouldn't  mind  that,  you 
know." 

"  He  was  very  impertinent  to  me  this  morning." 

"  I  presume  so.    He  depends  upon  his  favor  with  aunt." 

"  Isn't  there  anything  we  can  do,  mother?  " 

"  I  must  consider." 

Meanwhile  Luke  returned  at  once  to  the  room  of  Am- 
brose Kean.  He  found  the  young  man  awaiting  him  with 
great  anxiety. 

"  What  success  ?  "  he  asked,  quickly. 

"  I  have  got  the  fifty  dollars,"  answered  Luke. 

"  Thank  God!  I  am  saved!  "  ejaculated  the  young  man. 

"  Would  you  mind  taking  it  round  to  the  office  with  a 
note  from  me?  "  asked  Kerin. 


How  Ambrose  Kean  Was  Saved        89 

**  I  will  do  so  cheerfully." 

"  Then  I  shall  feel  at  ease." 

**  Mrs.  Merton  would  like  to  have  you  call  on  her.  SKe 
remembered  your  mother  at  once." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  so,  but  shall  be  ashamed  to 
meet  her  now  that  she  knows  of  my  yielding  to  tempta- 
tion." 

"  You  need  not  mind  that.  She  also  suffered  from  the 
rascality  of  Thomas  Browning,  and  she  will  make  allow- 
ances for  you." 

"  Then  I  will  go  some  day  with  you^" 

"  You  had  better  give  me  a  letter  to  take  to  your  em- 
ployer with  the  money." 

"  I  wiU." 

Ambrose  Kean  wrote  the  following  note : 

James  Cooper: 

Dear  Sir: — Hiram  Crossley  caUed  at  the  office  yesterday  and 
paid  in  fifty  dollars  due  to  you.  Being  busy,  I  thrust  it  into  my 
pocket,  and  inadvertently  took  it  with  me.  I  think  I  shall  be  able 
to  be  at  the  office  to-morrow,  but  think  it  best  to  send  the  money  by 
a  young  friend.    I  gave  Mr.  Crossley  a  receipt. 

Yours  respectfully,  Ambrose  Kean. 

When  Luke  reached  the  office,  Mr.  Cooper  was  con- 
versing with  a  stout,  broad-shouldered  man,  of  middle  age, 
and  Luke  could  not  help  hearing  some  of  their  conver- 
sation. ^ 

"  You  say  you  paid  fifty  dollars  to  my  clerk,  Mr.  Cross- 
ley.?  "  asked  the  merchant. 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  his  receipt  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is."- 

Mr.  Cooper  examined  it. 

"  Yes,  that  is  his  signature." 

"  Isn't  he  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  sent  word  that  he  had  a  headache.'* 

"  And  you  don't  find  the  money  ?" 

"No." 

'•'That  is  singular."  And  the  two  men  exchanged 
glances  of  suspicion. 


90         How  Ambrose  Kean  Was  Saved 

"  What  sort  of  a  young  man  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  any  cause  to  suspect  him.'* 

"  I  hope  it  is  all  right." 

"  If  it  isn't,  I  will  discharge  him,"  said  Cooper,  nod- 
ding emphatically. 

"  He  probably  didn't  think  I  would  be  here  so  soon. 
I  didn't  expect  to  be,  but  a  telegram  summoned  me  to  the 
city  on  other  business." 

Of  .course  Luke  understood  that  the  conversation  related 
to  Kean,  and  that  he  had  arrived  none  too  soon.  He  came 
forward. 

"  I  have  a  letter  for  you  from  Mr.  Kean,"  he  said. 

"  Ha !     Give  it  to  me !  " 

Mr.  Cooper  tore  open  the  envelope,  saw  the  bank  bills, 
and  read  the  letter. 

"  It's  all  right,  Mr.  Crossley,"  he  said,  his  brow  clear- 
ing.    "  Read  that  letter." 

"  I  am  reaUy  glad,"  said  Crossley. 

"  How  is  Mr.  Kean  ?  "  asked  Cooper,  in  a  friendly  tone. 

"  He  had  a  severe  headache,  but  he  is  better,  and  hopes 
to  be  at  the  office  to-morrow." 

"  Tell  him  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him,  but  don't  want 
him  to  come  unless  he  is  really  able." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  will  do  so."  And  Luke  left  the  office. 

He  went  back  to  Ambrose  Kean,  and  told  him  what  had 
happened  at  the  office. 

"  I  have  escaped  better  than  I  deserved,"  he  said.  "  It 
will  be  a  lesson  to  me.  Please  tell  Mrs.  Merton  that  her 
timely  aid  has  saved  my  reputation  and  rescued  my  poor 
mother  from  sorrow  and  destitution." 

"  I  will,  and  I  am  sure  she  wiU  consider  the  money  well 
spent." 

The  next  morning,  as  Luke  stood  at  his  usual  post, 
he  saw  Thomas  Browning,  of  Milwaukee,  come  out  of  the 
Sherman  House.  He  knew  him  at  once  by  the  wart  on  the 
upper  part  of  his  right  cheek,  which  gave  him  a  remark- 
able appearance. 

"  Can  there  be  two  persons  answering  this  descrip- 
tion.? "  Luke  asked  himself. 


Stephen  Webb  is  Puzzled  91 

Thomas  Browning  came  across  the  street,  and  paused 
in  front  of  Luke. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

STEPHEN    WEBB    IS    PUZZLED 

*'  Will  you  have  a  morning  paper?  "  asked  Luke. 

He  wanted  to  have  a  few  words  with  Mr.  Browning, 
even  upon  an  indifferent  subject,  as  he  now  thought  it 
probable  that  this  was  the  man  who  had  defrauded  his 
mother  and  himself. 

Browning,  too,  on  his  part,  wished  for  an  opportunity 
to  speak  with  the  son  of  the  man  he  had  so  shamefully 
swindled. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  abruptly,  "  you  may  give  me  the 
Times." 

When  the  paper  had  been  paid  for,  he  said : 

"  Do  you  make  a  good  living  at  selling  papers  ?  " 

"  It  gives  me  about  seventy-five  cents  a  day,"  answered 
Luke. 

"  You  can  live  on  that,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  mother  to  support." 

"  That  makes  a  difference.  Why  do  you  stay  in  Chi- 
cago?   You  could  make  a  better  living  farther  West." 

"In  California?"  asked  Luke,  looking  intently  at 
Browning. 

Thomas  Browning  started. 

*' What  put  California  into  your  head?"  he  asked. 

*'  My  father  died  in  California." 

"  A  good  reason  for  your  not  going  there." 

"  I  thought  you  might  be  able  to  tell  me  something 
about  California,"  continued  Luke. 

"Why  should  I?" 

*'  I  thought  perhaps  you  had  been  there." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Browning,  after  a  pause.  "  I 
made  a  brief  trip  to  San  Francisco  at  one  time.  It  was 
on  a  shght  matter  of  business.  But  I  don't  know  much 
about  the  interior  and  can't  give  you  advice." 

"  I  wonder  if  this  is  true,"  thought  Luke.    "  He  admits 


92  Stephen  Webb  is  Puzzled 

having  been  to  California,  but  says  he  has  never  been  in! 
the  interior.  If  that  is  the  case,  he  can't  have  met  my 
father." 

"  I  may  at  some  time  have  it  in  my  power  to  find  you 
a  place  farther  West,  but  not  in  California,"  resumed 
Browning.  "  I  will  take  it  into  consideration.  I  fre- 
quently come  to  Chicago,  and  I  presume  you  are  to  be 
found  here." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Thomas  Browning  waved  his  hand  by  way  of  good-by, 
and  continued  on  his  way. 

"  The  boy  seems  sharp,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  If  he 
had  the  slightest  hint  of  my  connection  with  his  father's 
money,  he  looks  as  if  he  would  follow  it  up.  Luckily  there 
is  no  witness  and  no  evidence.  No  one  can  prove  that  I 
received  the  money." 

At  the  comer  of  Adams  Street  Mr.  Browning  encoun- 
tered his  nephew,  Stephen  Webb,  who  was  gazing  in  at  a 
window  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  looking  the  very  image 
of  independent  leisure. 

"  You  are  profitably  employed,"  said  Browning,  dryly. 

Stephen  Webb  wheeled  round  quickly. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Uncle  Thomas,"  he  said,  effusively. 
"  I  suppose  you  received  my  letter  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied.  I  had  hard  work  to  find  out 
about  the  boy." 

"  Humph !  I  don't  see  how  there  could  be  anything 
difficult  about  it.    I  hope  you  didn't  mention  my  name  ?  " 

"  No.  I  suppose  you  are  interested  in  the  boy,"  said! 
Stephen,  with  a  look  of  curious  inquiry. 

"  Yes ;  I  always  feel  interested  in  the  poor,  and  those 
who  require  assistance." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  uncle,  for  you  have  a  poor  nephew." 

"  And  a  lazy  one,"  said  Browning,  sharply.  "  Where 
would  I  be  if  I  had  been  as  indolent  as  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  willing  to  do  whatever  you  require, 
Uncle  Thomas.     Have  you  any  instructions.'"' 

"  Well,  not  just  now,  except  to  let  me  know  all  you  can 


Stephen  Webb  is  Puzzled  93 

learn  about  the  newsboy.     Has  he  any  other  source  of 
income  except  selling  papers  ?  " 

"  I  believe  he  does  a  few  odd  jobs  now  and  then,  but  I 
don't  suppose  he  earns  much  outside." 

"  I  was  talking  with  him  this  morning." 

"  You  were!  "  ejaculated  Stephen  in  a  tone  of  curiosity. 
**  Did  you  tell  him  you  felt  an  interest  in  him  ?  " 

"  No,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  him  so.  I  suggested 
that  he  could  make  a  better  income  by  leaving  Chicago, 
and  going  farther  West." 

"  I  think  I  might  like  to  do  that.  Uncle  Thomas." 

"  Then  why  don't  you.?  " 

*'  I  can't  go  without  money." 

"  You  could  take  up  a  quarter-section  of  land  and  start 
in  as  a  farmer.  I  could  give  you  a  hft  that  way  if  I 
thought  you  were  in  earnest." 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  succeed  as  a  farmer,"  said 
Stephen,  with  a  grimace. 

"  Too  hard  work,  eh.'^  " 

"  I  am  willing  to  work  hard,  but  that  isn't  in  my  line." 

"  Well,  let  that  go.  You  asked  if  I  had  any  instruc- 
tions. Find  opportunities  of  talking  with  the  boy,  and 
speak  in  favor  of  going  West." 

"  I  will.    Is  there  anything  more.''  " 

"  No.    I  beheve  not." 

"  You  couldn't  let  me  have  a  couple  of  dollars  extra, 
could  you,  uncle.?  " 

"Why  should  I.?" 

"  I — I  felt  sick  last  week,  and  had  to  call  in  a  doctor, 
and  then  get  some  medicine." 

"  There's  one  dollar !  Don't  ask  me  for  any  more  ex-« 
tras." 

"  He's  awfully  close-fisted,"  grumbled  Stephen. 

"  I  am  afraid  King  might  visit  Chicago,  and  find  out 
the  boy,"  said  Browning  to  himself  as  he  continued  his 
walk.  "  That  would  never  do,  for  he  is  a  sharp  fellow, 
and  would  put  the  boy  on  my  track  if  he  saw  ^ny  money 
in  it.  My  best  course  is  to  get  this  Luke  out  of  Chicago, 
if  I  can." 
Iks. 


94  Stephen  Webb  is  Puzzled 

Stephen  Webb  made  it  in  his  way  to  fall  in  with  Luke 
when  he  was  selling  afternoon  papers. 

"  This  is  rather  a  slow  way  of  making  a  fortune,  isn't 
it,  Luke?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  no  thoughts  of  making  a  fortune  at  the 
newspaper  business." 

"  Do  you  always  expect  to  remain  in  it  ?  "  continued 
Webb. 

"  Well,  no,"  answered  Luke,  with  a  smile.  "  If  I  live 
to  be  fifty  or  sixty  I  think  I  should  find  it  rather  tiresome." 
"  You  are  right  there." 

*'  But  I  don't  see  any  way  of  getting  out  of  it  just  yet. 
There  may  be  an  opening  for  me  by  and  by." 

*'  The  chances  for  a  young  fellow  in  Chicago  are  not 
very  good.  Here  am  I — twenty-five  years  old — ^and  with 
no  prospects  to  speak  of." 

"  A  good  many  people  seem  to  make  good  livings,  and 
many  grow  rich,  in  Chicago." 

"  Yes,  if  you've  got  money  you  can  make  money.  Did 
you  ever  think  of  going  West?  " 

Luke  looked  a  little  surprised. 

"  A  gentleman  was  speaking  to  me  on  that  subject  this 
morning,"  he  said. 

*'  What  did  he  say  to  you?  "  asked  Stephen,  curiously. 

"  He  recommended  me  to  go  West,  but  did  not  seem 
to  approve  of  California." 

"  Why  not.    Had  he  ever  been  there?  " 

*'  He  said  he  had  visited  San  Francisco,  but  had  never 
been  in  the  interior." 

"  What  a  whopper  that  was !  "  thought  Stephen  Webb. 
**  Why  should  Uncle  Thomas  say  that  ?  " 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  man  was  he?  Had  you  ever 
eeen  him  before?  "  he  inquired. 

"  He  is  a  peculiar-looking  man — ^has  a  wart  on  his 
right  cheek." 

"  Did  he  mention  the  particular  part  of  the  West?  " 

*'  No ;  he  said  he  would  look  out  for  a  chance  for  me." 

"  It  is  curious  Uncle  Thomas  feels  such  an  interest  in 
that  boy,"  Webb  said  to  himself,  meditatively. 


Mrs.  Merton  Passes  a  Pleasant  Evening     95 
CHAPTER    XXIV 

MES.    MEETON    PASSES   A    PLEASANT    EVENING 

Ambeose  Kean  called  with  Luke  an  evening  or  two 
later  to  thank  Mrs.  Merton  in  person  for  her  kindness. 
They  arrived  ten  minutes  after  Mrs.  Tracy  and  Harold 
had  started  for  Hooley's  Theater,  and  thus  were  saved  an 
embarrassing  meeting  with  two  persons  who  would  have 
treated  them  frigidly. 

They  were  conducted  upstairs  by  the  servant,  and  were 
ushered  into  Mrs.  Merton's  room. 

Ambrose  Kean  was  naturally  ill  at  ease,  knowing  that 
Mrs.  Merton  was  acquainted  with  the  error  he  had  com- 
mitted.    But  the  old  lady  received  him  cordially. 

"  I  am  glad  to  meet  the  son  of  my  old  schoolmate,  Mary 
Robinson,"  she  said. 

"  In  spite  of  his  unworthiness .''  "  returned  Ambrose,  his 
cheek  flushing  with  shame. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  he  is  unworthy.  That  remains 
to  be  seen." 

"  You  know  I  yielded  to  temptation  and  committed  a; 
theft." 

"  Yes ;  but  it  was  to  help  your  mother." 

"  It  was,  but  that  does  not  relieve  me  from  guilt." 

"  You  are  right ;  still  it  greatly  mitigates  it.  Take  my 
advice;  forget  it,  and  never  again  yield  to  a  similar 
temptation." 

"  I  will  not,  indeed,  Mrs.  Merton,"  said  the  young  man, 
earnestly.  "  I  feel  that  I  have  been  very  fortunate  in 
escaping  the  consequences  of  my  folly,  and  in  enlisting 
your  sympathy." 

"  That  is  well !  Let  us  forget  this  disagreeable  circum- 
stance, and  look  forward  to  the  future.  How  is  Mary — ' 
your  mother  ?  " 

"  She  is  an  invalid." 

"  And  poor.  There  is  a  remedy  for  poverty.  Let  us 
also  hope  there  is  a  remedy  for  her  ill-health.    But  tell  me,, 


96     Mrs.  Merton  Passes  a  Pleasant  Evening 

why  did  you  not  come  to  see  me  before?  You  have  been 
some  time  in  Chicago." 

"  True,  but  I  knew  you  were  a  rich  lady.  I  didn't  think 
you  would  remember  or  care  to  hear  from  one  so  poor  and 
obscure  as  my  mother." 

"  Come,  I  consider  that  far  from  a  compliment,"  said 
the  old  lady.  "  You  really  thought  as  badly  of  me  as 
that?" 

"  I  know  you  better  now,"  said  Ambrose,  gratefully. 

*'  It  is  well  you  do.  You  have  no  idea  how  intimate  your 
mother  and  I  used  to  be.  She  is  five  years  my  junior,  I 
think,  so  that  I  regarded  her  as  a  younger  sister.  It  is 
many  years  since  we  met.     And  how  is  she  looking?  " 

"  She  shows  the  effects  of  bad  health,  but  I  don't  think 
she  looks  older  than  her  years." 

*'  We  have  both  changed  greatly,  no  doubt.  It  is  to  be 
expected.  But  you  can  tell  her  that  I  have  not  forgotten 
the  favorite  companion  of  my  school  days." 

"  I  will  do  so,  for  I  know  it  will  warm  her  heart  and 
brighten  her  up." 

"  When  we  were  girls  together  our  worldly  circum- 
stances did  not  greatly  differ.  But  I  married,  and  my 
husband  was  very  successful  in  business." 

"  While  she  married  and  lost  all  she  had." 

*'  It  is  often  so.  It  might  have  been  the  other  way. 
Your  mother  might  have  been  rich,  and  I  poor ;  but  I  don't 
think  she  would  have  been  spoiled  by  prosperity  any  more 
than  I  have  been.     Now  tell  me  how  you  are  situated." 

"  I  am  a  clerk,  earning  twelve  dollars  a  week." 

"  And  your  employer — ^is  he  kind  and  considerate  ?  " 

"  He  is  just,  but  he  has  strict  notions.  Had  he  learned 
my  slip  the  other  day  he  would  have  discharged  me,  per- 
haps had.  me  arrested.  Now,  thanks  to  your  prompt  kind- 
ness, he  knows  and  will  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  Is  he  likely  to  increase  your  salary  ?  " 

*'  He  will  probably  raise  me  to  fifteen  dollars  a  week 
next  January.  Then  I  can  get  along  very  well.  At  pres- 
ent it  is  difficult  for  me,  after  sending  my  mother  four 
dollars  a  week,  to  live  on  the  balance  of  my  salary." 


Mrs.  Merton  Passes  a  Pleasant  Evening     97 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be." 

"  Still,  I  would  have  made  it  do,  but  for  mother's  falling 
sick,  and  so  needing  a  larger  allowance." 

"  I  hope  she  is  not  seriously  ill,"  said  Mrs.  Merton, 
with  solicitude. 

"  No,  fortunately  not.  I  think  she  wiU  be  as  well  as 
usual  in  a  few  weeks." 

"  Tell  her  I  inquired  particularly  for  her,  and  that 
I  send  her  my  love  and  remembrance." 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  do  so." 

The  time  sHpped  away  so  rapidly  that  Luke  was  sur- 
prised when,  looking  at  the  French  clock  on  the  mantel, 
he  saw  that  it  lacked  but  a  quarter  of  ten  o'clock. 

"  Mr.  Kean,"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  clock,  "  it  is 
getting  late." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Ambrose,  rising.  "  I  am  afraid  we 
have  been  trespassing  upon  your  kindness,  Mrs.  Merton." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  said  Mrs.  Merton,  promptly.  "  I  have 
enjoyed  the  evening,  I  can  assure  you.  Mr.  Kean,  you 
must  call  again." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  so,  if  you  wiU  permit  me." 

"  I  wish  you  to  do  so.  Luke  will  come  with  you.  I 
shall  want  to  hear  more  of  your  mother,  and  how  she  gets 
along." 

As  they  were  leaving,  Mrs.  Merton  shpped  Into  the 
hand  of  Ambrose  Kean  an  envelope. 

"  The  contents  is  for  your  mother,"  she  said.  "  I  have 
made  the  check  payable  to  you." 

**  Thank  you.    It  is  another  mark  of  your  kindness." 

When  Ambrose  Kean  examined  the  check,  he  ascer- 
tained to  his  joy  that  it  was  for  a  hundred  dollars. 

"  What  a  splendid  old  lady  she  is,  Luke ! "  he  said,  en- 
thusiastically. 

"  She  is  always  kind,  Mr.  Kean.  I  have  much  to  be 
grateful  to  her  for.  I  wish  I  could  say  the  same  of  other 
members  of  the  family." 

"  What  other  members  of  the  family  are  there.?  " 

"  A  niece,  Mrs.  Tracy,  and  her  son,  Harold." 

"  Why  didn't  we  see  them  to-night .''  " 


98      Mrs.  Merton  Passes  a  Pleasant  Evening 

"  I  don't  know.    I  suppose  thej  were  out." 

The  next  day  Ambrose  handed  the  check  to  his  em- 
ployer and  asked  if  he  would  indorse  it,  and  so  enable 
him  to  draw  the  money. 

James  Cooper  took  the  check  and  examined  the  signa- 
ture. 

"  Ehza  Merton,"  said  he.  "  Is  it  the  rich  Mrs.  Merton 
who  lives  on  Prairie  Avenue.''  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Indeed ;  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  acquainted  with 
her." 

**  She  and  my  mother  were  schoolm.ates." 

*'  And  so  you  keep  up  the  acquaintance  ?  " 

"  I  spent  last  evening  at  her  house.  This  check  is  a 
gift  from  her  to  my  mother." 

Ambrose  Kean  rose  greatly  in  the  estimation  of  his  em- 
ployer when  the  latter  learned  that  Kean  had  such  an 
aristocratic  friend,  and  he  was  treated  with  more  respect 
and  consideration  than  before. 

Meanwhile  Harold  and  his  mother  had  enjoyed  them- 
selves at  the  theater. 

"  I  suppose  Aunt  Eliza  went  to  bed  early,  Harold," 
said  Mrs.  Tracy,  as  they  were  on  their  way  home. 

"  Went  to  roost  with  the  hens,"  suggested  Harold, 
laughing  at  what  he  thought  to  be  a  good  joke. 

"  Probably  it  is  as  well  for  her,"  said  his  mother.  "  It 
isn't  good  for  old  people  to  sit  up  late." 

It  was  about  half-past  eleven  when  they  were  admitted 
by  the  drowsy  servant. 

"  I  suppose  Mrs.  Merton  went  to  bed  long  ago,  Laura," 
said  Mrs.  Tracy. 

"  No,  ma'am,  she  set  up  later  than  usual."   ', 

"  That  is  odd.     I  thought  she  would  feel  lonely." 

"  Oh,  she  had  company,  ma'am." 

"Company!    Who.?" 

"  Master  Luke  was  here  all  the  evenin',  and  a  young 
man  with  him." 

Mrs.  Tracy  frowned  ominously. 

*'  The  sly  young  artful !  "  she  said  to  Harold  when  they 


Mrs.  Tracy's  Brother  99 

were  alone.  "  He  is  trying  all  he  can  to  get  on  aunt's 
weak  side.  Something  will  have  to  be  done,  or  we  shall 
be  left  out  in  the  cold." 

CHAPTER    XXV  , 

MRS.    TEACy's    BBOTHER  [ 

A  DAY  or  two  later,  while  Mrs.  Merton  was  in  the  city|  ,1 
shopping,  accompanied  by  Luke,  a  man  of  thirty  years 
of  age  ascended  the  steps  of  the  house  on  Prairie  Avenue 
and  rang  the  bell. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Tracy  at  home?  "  he  asked  of  the  servant  who 
answered  the  bell. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  what  name  shall  I  give  ?  " 

*'  Never  mind  about  the  name.     Say  it  is  an  old  friend." 

*'  Won't  you  come  in,  sir?  " 

"  Yes,  I  beheve  I  will." 

Mrs.  Tracy  received  the  message  with  surprise  mingled 
with  curiosity. 

"  Who  can  it  be  ?  "  she  asked  herself. 

She  came  downstairs  without  delay. 

The  stranger,  who  had  taken  a  seat  in  the  hall,  rosa  [ 
and  faced  her.  : 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Louisa  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Is  it  you,  Warner  ? "  she  exclaimed,  surprised  and 
startled.  \^, 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  laughing.      "  It's  a   good  while  ^ 
since  we  met." 

"  Five  years.    And  have  you " 

"What^reformed?" 

«  Yes.'; 

"  Well^  I  can't  say  as  to  that.  I  can  only  tell  you  that 
I  am  not  wanted  by  the  police  at  present.  Is  the  old  lady] 
still  alive?" 

"Aunt  Eliza?" 

*'  Of  course." 

**  Yes,  she  is  alive  and  well." 

**  I  thought  perhaps  she  might  have  died,  and  left  yott 
in  possession  of  her  property." 


lOO  Mrs.  Tracy's  Brother 

**  Not  jet.  I  don't  think  she  has  any  intention  of  dying 
for  a  considerable  number  of  years." 

*'  That  is  awkward.    HLas  she  done  nothing  for  you?  " 

**  We  have  a  free  home  here,  and  she  makes  me  a  mod- 
erate allowance,  but  she  is  not  disposed  to  part  with  much 
money  while  she  lives." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that.  I  thought  you  might  be  able 
to  help  me  to  some  money.    I  am  terribly  hard  up." 

"  You  always  were,  no  matter  how  much  money  you 
had.  " 

"  I  never  had  much.  The  next  thing  is,  how  does  the 
old  lady  feel  toward  me?  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  feels  very  friendly,  though  nothing 
has  passed  between  us  respecting  you  for  a  long  time.  She 
Jhas  very  strict  notions  about  honesty,  and  when  you  em- 
bezzled your  employer's  money  you  got  into  her  black 
books." 

"  That  was  a  youthful  indiscretion,"  said  Warner,  smil- 
ing.    *'  Can't  you  convince  her  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  if  I  can  lead  her  to  think  of  it  in  that  light." 

"  I  know  what  that  means,  Louisa.  You  want  to  get  the 
whole  of  the  old  lady's  property  for  yourself  and  that  boy 
of  yours.    You  always  were  selfish." 

"  No,  Warner,  though  I  think  I  am  entitled  to  the 
larger  part  of  aunt's  money,  I  don't  care  to  have  you  left 
out  in  the  cold.  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  reconcile  her  to 
you." 

"  Come,  that's  fair  and  square.  You're  a  trump,  Louisa. 
You  have  not  forgotten  that  I  am  your  brother." 

"  No,  I  am  not  so  selfish  as  you  think.  If  I  don't  suc- 
ceed in  restoring  you  to  Aunt  Eliza's  good  graces,  and 
she  chooses  to  leave  me  all  her  property,  I  promise  to 
take  care  of  you  and  allow  you  a  fair  income." 

"  That's  all  right,  but  I  would  rather  the  old  lady 
would  provide  for  me  herself." 

"  Do  you  doubt  my  word  ?  " 

"  No,  but  your  idea  of  what  would  be  a  fair  income 
might  diifer  from  mine.  How  much  do  you  think  the 
old  lady's  worth?  " 


Mrs.  Tracy's  Brother  loi 

"  Quarter  of  a  milKon,  I  should  think,'*  replied  Mrs. 
"Tracy,  guardedly. 

"  Yes,  and  considerably  more,  too." 

"  Perhaps  so.     I  have  no  means  of  judging." 

"  Supposing  it  to  be  the  figure  you  name,  how  much 
would  you  be  willing  to  give  me,  if  she  leaves  me  out  in 
the  cold.?" 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,  Warner.  I  would  see  that 
you  had  no  good  reason  to  complain." 

"  I  should  prefer  to  have  you  name  a  figure,  so  that  I 
might  know  what  to  depend  upon." 

But  this  Mrs.  Tracy  declined  to  do,  though  her 
brother  continued  to  urge  her. 

"  Where  have  you  been  for  a  few  years  past,  Warner  ?  " 
she  asked. 

**  Floating  about.  At  first  I  didn't  dare  to  come  back. 
Jt  was  a  year  at  least  before  I  heard  that  aunt  had  paid 
up  the  sum  I  got  away  with.  When  I  did  hear  it„I  was 
in  Australia." 

"What  did  you  do  there.?" 

"  I  was  a  bookkeeper  in  Melbourne  for  a  time.  Then 
I  went  into  the  country.  From  Australia  I  came  to  Cali- 
fornia, and  went  to  the  mines.  In  fact,  I  have  only  just 
come  from  there." 

"  Didn't  you  manage  to  make  money  anywhere  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  but  it  didn't  stick  by  me.  How  much  money 
do  you  think  I  have  about  me  now.?  " 

"  I  can't  guess,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  uneasily. 

"  Five  dollars  and  a  few  cents.  However,  I  am  sure 
you  will  help  me,"  he  continued. 

"  Really,  Warner,  you  mustn't  hope  for-  too  much  from 
me.  I  have  but  a  small  allowance  from  Aunt  Eliza — 
hardly  enough  to  buy  necessary  articles  for  Harold  and 
myself." 

"  Then  you  can  speak  to  aunt  in  my  behalf.'* 

"  Yes,  I  can  do  that." 
,     "Where  is  she.?" 

*'  She  has  gone  out  shopping  this  morning.** 

"  Alone,  or  is  Harold  with  her.?  " 


I02  Mrs.  Tracy's  Brother 

"  Neither,"  answered  Mrs.  Tracy,  her  brow  darkening, 
**  She  has  picked  up  a  boy  from  the  street,  and  installed 
him  as  a  first  favorite." 

"  That's  queer,  isn't  it.?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  Aunt  Eliza  was  always  queer." 

"What's  the  boy's  name.?" 

"  Luke  Walton." 

"  What's  his  character.?  " 

"  Sly — artful.  He  is  scheming  to  have  aunt  leave  him 
something  in  her  will." 

"  If  she  leaves  him  a  few  hundred  dollars  it  won't  hurt 
us  much." 

"  You  don't  know  the  boy.  He  won't  be  satisfied  with 
that." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  his  influence  over  aunt 
is  dangerous  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"  Can't  you  get  her  to  bounce  him  ?  " 

"  I  have  done  what  I  could,  but  she  seems  to  be  in- 
fatuated. If  he  were  a  gentleman's  son  I  shouldn't  mind 
so  much,  but  Harold  saw  him  the  other  day  selling  papers 
near  the  Sherman  House." 

"  Do  you  think  aunt's  mind  is  failing.?  " 

"  She  seems  rational  enough  on  all  other  subjects.  She 
was  always  shrewd  and  sharp,  you  know." 

"  Well,  that's  rather  an  interesting  state  of  things.  I 
haven't  returned  to  Chicago  any  too  soon." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  Because  it  will  be  my  duty  to  spoil  the  chances  of 
this  presuming  young  man." 

"  That  is  easier  said  than  done.  You  forget  that  Aunt 
OEliza  thinks  a  great  deal  more  of  him  than  she  does  of 
you." 

"  I  haven't  a  doubt  that  you  are  right." 

"  Then  what  can  you  do .?  " 

*'  Convince  her  that  he  is  a  scapegrace.  Get  him  into 
a  scrape,  in  other  words." 

"  But  he  is  too  smart  to  be  dishonest,  if  that  is  what 
jou  mean." 


The  Prodigal's  Reception  103 

"  It  is  not  necessary  for  him  to  be  dishonest.  It  is 
only  necessary  for  her  to  think  he  is  dishonest." 

"  There  was  some  further  conversation.  As  Warner 
Powell  was  leaving  the  house,  after  promising  to  call  in 
the  evening,  he  met  on  the  steps  Mrs.  Merton,  under 
the  escort  of  Luke  Walton. 

The  old  lady  eyed  him  sharply. 

CHAPTER    XXVI 

THE    PEODIGAL*S    KECEPTION 

"  Don't  you  know  me.  Aunt  EHza  ?  "  asked  Warner 
Powell,  casting  down  his  eyes  under  the  sharp  glance  of 
the  old  lady. 

"  So  it  is  you,  is  it  ?  "  responded  Mrs.  Merton,  in  a  tone 
which  could  not  be  considered  cordial. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I.    I  hope  you  are  not  sorry  to  see  me?  " 

*'  Humph !  It  depends  on  whether  you  have  improved 
or  not." 

Luke  Walton  listened  with  natural  interest  and  cu- 
riosity. This  did  not  suit  Mrs.  Tracy,  who  did  not  care 
to  have  a  stranger  made  acquainted  with  her  brother's 
peccadilloes, 

"  Warner,"  she  said,  "  I  think  Aunt  Eliza  will  do  you 
the  justice  to  listen  to  your  explanation.  I  imagine, 
young  man,  Mrs.  Merton  will  not  require  your  services 
any  longer  to-day." 

The  last  words  were  addressed  to  Luke. 

'*  Yes,  Luke ;  you  can  go,"  said  the  old  lady,  in  a  very 
different  tone. 

Luke  bowed  and  left  the  house. 

"  Louisa,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  "  in  five  minutes  you  may 
bring  your  brother  up  to  my  room." 

"  Thank  you,  aunt." 

When  they  entered  the  apartment  they  found  the  old 
lady  seated  in  a  rocking-chair  awaiting  them. 

"  So  you  have  reformed,  have  you?  "  she  asked,  abruptly. 

*'  I  hope  so.  Aunt  Eliza." 

"  I  hope  so,  too.    It  is  full  time.    Where  have  you  been? 


I  ©4  The  Prodigal's  Reception 

"  To  Australia,  California,  and  elsewhere." 

"  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss." 

"  In  this  case  it  applies,"  said  Warner.  "  I  have  earned 
more  or  less  money,  but  I  have  none  now." 

"  How  old  are  you.''  " 

"  Thirty." 

'*'  A  young  man  ought  not  to  be  penniless  at  that  age. 
If  you  had  remained  in  your  place  at  Mr.  Afton's,  and 
behaved  yourself,  you  would  be  able  to  tell  a  different 
story." 

"  I  know  it,  aunt." 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  upon  him,  Aunt  Eliza,"  put  in 
Mrs.  Tracy.  "  He  is  trying  to  do  well  now." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  Would  you  mind  my  inviting  him  to  stay  here  for  a 
time.?    The  house  is  large,  you  know." 

Mrs.  Merton  paused.  She  didn't  like  the  arrangement, 
but  she  was  a  just  and  merciful  woman,  and  it  was  possible 
that  Warner  had  reformed,  though  she  was  not  fully  sat- 
isfied on  that  point. 

"  For  a  time,"  she  answered,  "  till  he  can  find  employ- 
ment." 

"  Thank  you,  Aimt  Ehza,"  said  the  young  man,  re- 
lieved, for  he  had  been  uncertain  how  his  aunt  would  treat 
him.    "  I  hope  to  show  that  your  kindness  is  appreciated." 

"  I  am  rather  tired  now,"  responded  Mrs.  Merton,  as 
an  indication  that  the  interview  was  over. 

"  We'd  better  go  and  let  aunt  rest,"  said  Warner,  with 
alacrity.  He  did  not  feel  altogether  comfortable  in  the 
society  of  the  old  lady. 

When  they  were  alone  Mrs.  Tracy  turned  to  her  brother 
with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

"  You  have  reason  to  congratulate  yourself  on  your 
reception,"  she  said. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  The  old  woman  wasn't  very 
complimentary." 

"  Be  careful  how  you  speak  of  her.  She  might  hear 
you,  or  the  servants  might,  and  report." 

"  Well,  she  is  an  old  woman,  isn't  she  ?  " 


The  Prodigal's  Reception  105 

"It  is  much  better  to  refer  to  her  as  the  old  lady — 
better  still  to  speak  of  her  as  Aunt  Eliza." 

"  I  hope  she  will  make  up  her  mind  to  do  something 
for  me." 

"  She  has ;  she  gives  you  a  home  in  this  house." 

"  I  would  a  good  deal  rather  have  her  pay  my  board 
outside,  where  I  would  feel  more  independent." 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  Warner,  you  might  become  her 
secretary  and  man  of  business.  In  that  case  she  would 
dispense  with  this  boy,  whose  presence  bodes  danger  to 
us  aU."   . 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  being  her  man  of  business,  to  take 
charge  of  her  money,  but  as  to  trotting  round  town  with 
her  hke  a  lame  poodle,  please  excuse  me." 

"  Warner,"  said  his  sister,  rather  sharply,  "  just  re- 
member, if  you  please,  that  beggars  can't  be  choosers." 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  this  plan  of  yours  would  be  foolish. 
She  wouldn't  like  it,  nor  would  I.  Why  don't  you  put 
Harold  up  to  offering  his  services?  He's  as  large  as  this 
boy,  isn't  he  ?  " 

*'  He  is  about  the  same  size." 

"  Then  it  would  be  a  capital  plan.  You  would  get  rid 
of  the  boy  that  way." 

"  You  forget  that  Harold  has  not  finished  his  educa- 
tion. He  is  now  attending  a  commercial  school.  I  should 
like  to  have  him  go  to  college,  but  he  doesn't  seem  to  care 
about  it." 

"  So,  after  all,  the  boy  seems  to  be  a  necessity." 

"  I  would  prefer  a  different  boy — ^less  artful  and  de- 
signing." 

*'  How  much  does  the  old  woman — ^beg  pardon,  the  old 
lady — ^pay  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Harold  asked  Luke,  but  he  wouldn't 
tell.  I  have  no  doubt  he  manages  to  secure  twice  as 
much  as  his  services  are  worth.  He's  got  on  Aunt  Eliza's 
blind  side." 

"  Just  what  I  would  like  to  do,  but  I  have  never  been 
able  to  discover  that  she  had  any." 

"  Did  you  take  notice  of  the  boy  ?  " 


Io6  The  Prodigars  Reception 

*'  Yes ;  he's  rather  a  good-looking  youngster,  it  seems 
to  me." 

"  How  can  you  say  so?  *'  demanded  Mrs.  Tracy, 
sharply.  "  There's  a  very  common  look  about  him,  I 
think.    He  isn't  nearly  as  good-looking  as  Harold." 

"  Harold  used  to  look  like  you,"  said  Warner,  with  a 
smile.  "  Natural  you  should  think  him  good-looking. 
But  don't  it  show  a  little  self-conceit,  Louisa  ?  " 

"  That's  a  poor  joke,"  answered  his  sister,  coldly, 
*'  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

''  Going  out  to  see  if  I  can  find  any  of  my  old  ac- 
quaintances." 

"  You  had  much  better  look  out  for  a  position,  as  Aunt 
EHza  hinted." 

"  Don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,  Louisa.  Please  bear  in 
mind  that  I  have  only  just  arrived  in  Chicago  after  ani 
absence  of  five  years." 

"  Dinner  wiU  be  ready  in  half  an  hour." 

"  Thank  you.  I  don't  think  I  should  hke  a  second  in- 
terview with  Aunt  EHza  quite  so  soon.  I  wiU  lunch  out- 
side." 

"  A  lunch  outside  costs  money,  and  you  are  not  veryj 
well  provided  in  that  way." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  that,  Louisa.  I  intend 
to  be  very  economical. 

"  My  estimable  sister  is  about  as  mean  as  anyone  I 
know,"  said  Warner  to  himself,  as  he  left  the  house.  "  Be- 
tween her  and  the  old  woman,  I  don't  think  I  shall  find  it 
very  agreeable  living  here.  A  cheap  boarding  house 
would  be  infinitely  preferable." 

On  State  Street  Warner  Powell  fell  in  with  Stephen 
Webb,  an  old  acquaintance. 

"  Is  it  you,  Warner  ?  "  asked  Webb,  in  surprise.  "  It's 
an  age  since  I  saw  you." 

"  So  it  is.     I  haven't  been  in  Chicago  for  five  years." 

"I  remember.     A  little  trouble,  wasn't  there?" 

"  Yes ;  but  I'm  all  right  now,  except  that  I  haven't  anyj 
money  to  speak  of." 

*'  That's  my  situation  exactly." 


Uncle  and  Nephew  1 07 

**  However,  I've  got  an.  old  aunt  worth  a  million,  more 
or  less,  only  she  doesn't  fully  appreciate  her  nephew." 

"  And  I  have  an  uncle,  pretty  well  to  do,  who  isn't  so 
deeply  impressed  with  my  merits  as  I  wish  he  were." 

"  I  am  staying  with  my  aunt  just  at  present,  but  hope 
to  have  independent  quarters  soon.  One  trouble  is,  she 
takes  a  fancy  to  a  boy  named  Luke  Walton." 

"  Luke  Walton !  "  repeated  Stephen  m  amazement. 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 
,     *'  Yes,  my  uncle  has  set  me  to  spy  on  him — ^why,  I 
haven't  been  able  to  find  out.    So  he  is  in  favor  with  your 
aunt?" 

"  Yes,  he  calls  at  the  house  every  day,  and  is  in  her 
employ.     Sometimes  she  goes  out  shopping  with  him." 

"  That's  strange.  Let  us  drop  into  the  Saratoga  and 
compare  notes." 

They  turned  into  Dearborn  Street,  and  sat  down  to 
lunch  in  the  Saratoga. 

CHAPTER    XXVII 

TJNCIiE    AND    NEPHEW 

"  So  this  boy  is  an  object  of  interest  to  your  uncle?  " 
resumed  Warner  Powell. 

"  Yes." 

"  Does  he  give  any  reason  for  his  interest  ?  " 

"  No,  except  that  he  is  inclined  to  help  him  when  there 
is  an  opportunity." 

"  Does  the  boy  know  him?  " 

"  No." 

*'  Has  he  met  your  uncle  ?  " 

"Yes;  Uncle  Thomas  frequently  visits  Chicago — ^he 
lives  in  Milwaukee — and  stays  at  the  Sherman  when  he  is 
here.  He  has  stopped  and  bought  a  paper  of  Luke  once 
or  twice." 

"  I  remember  my  sister  told  me  this  boy  Luke  was  a 
newsboy." 

"  How  did  he  get  in  with  your  aunt  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  presume  it  was  a  chance  acquaint- 


io8  Uncle  and  Nephew 

ance.  However  that  may  be,  the  young  rascal  seems  to 
have  got  on  her  blind  side,  and  to  be  installed  first  fav- 
orite." 

"  Your  sister  doesn't  like  it  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  Between  you  and  me,  Louisa — Mrs. 
Tracy — means  to  inherit  all  the  old  lady's  property,  and 
doesn't  like  to  have  anyone  come  in,  even  for  a  trifle. 
She'll  have  me  left  out  in  the  cold  if  she  can,  but  I  mean 
to  have  something  to  say  to  that.  In  such  matters  you 
can't  trust  even  your  own  sister." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Warner." 

The  two  young  men  ate  a  hearty  dinner,  and  then  ad- 
journed to  a  bilHard  room,  where  they  spent  the  after- 
noon over  the  game.  Warner  reached  home  in  time  for 
supper. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Warner  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tracy. 

"  Looking  for  work,"  was  the  answer.  ' 

"  What  success  did  you  meet  with  ?  " 

"  Not  much  as  yet.  I  fell  in  with  an  old  acquaintance, 
iwho  may  assist  me  in  that  direction." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  lost  no  time  in  seeking  employ- 
ment.   It  will  please  aunt." 

Warner  Powell  suppressed  a  smile.  He  wondered  what 
Mrs.  Merton  would  have  thought  could  she  have  seen  in 
what  manner  he  prosecuted  his  search  for  employment. 

"  This  is  Harold,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  proudly,  as  her  son 
came  in.    "  Harold,  this  is  your    Uncle  Warner." 

"  So  you  are  Harold,"  said  his  uncle.  "  I  remember  you 
in  short  pants.  You  have  changed  considerably  in  five 
years." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Harold,  curtly.  "  Where 
have  you  been?  " 

"  In  Australia,  California,  and  so  on." 

"  How  long  are  you  going  to  stay  in  Chicago?  "' 

"  That  depends  on  whether  I  can  find  employment.  If 
yoiuhear  of  a  place  let  me  know." 

"  I  don't  know  of  any  unless  Aunt  Eliza  will  take 
you  into  her  employ  in  place  of  that  newsboy,  Luke 
Walton." 


Uncle  and  Nephew  109 

"  She  can  have  me  if  she  will  pay  me  enough  salary. 
How  much  does  Luke  get?  " 

"  I  don't  know.    He  won't  tell." 

"Do  you  like  him?" 

"  I  don't  consider  him  a  fit  associate  for  me.  He  is  a 
common  newsboy." 

"  Does  Aunt  Eliza  know  that?  " 

"  Yes ;  it  makes  no  difference  to  her.  She's  infatuated 
with  him." 

"  I  wish  she  were  infatuated  with  me.  I  shall  have  to 
ask  Luke  his  secret.  Aunt  Eliza  doesn't  prefer  him  to 
you,  does  she?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  she  does.  She's  very  queer  about 
some  things." 

"  Harold,"  said  his  mother,  sohcitously,  "  I  don't  think 
you  pay  Aimt  Eliza  enough  attention.  Old  persons,  you 
know,  like  to  receive  courtesies." 

"  I  treat  her  politely,  don't  I?  "  asked  Harold,  aggres- 
sively. "  I  can't  be  dancing  attendance  upon  her  and 
jflattering  her  all  the  time." 

"  From  what  I  have  seen  of  Luke  Walton,"  thought 
Warner  Powell,  "  I  should  decidedly  prefer  him  to  this 
nephew  of  mine.  He  seems  conceited  and  disagreeable. 
Of  course,  it  won't  do  to  tell  Louisa  that,  for  she  evi- 
dently admires  her  graceless  cub,  because  he  is  hers." 

"  Are  you  intimate  with  this  Luke?  "  asked  Warner, 
mischievously. 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  "  demanded  Harold,  of- 
fended. "  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  getting  intimate  with 
street  boys." 

Warner  Powell  laughed. 

"  I  am  not  so  proud  as  you,"  Nephew  Harold,"  he  said. 
"Travelers  pick  up  strange  companions.  In  San  Fran- 
cistx)  I  became  intimate  with  a  Chinaman." 

"  You  don't  mean  it?  "  exclaimed  Harold,  in  incredulity 
and  disgust." 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

**  You  weren't  in  the  laundry  business  with  him,  were 
jou?  "  went  on  Harold,  with  a  sneer. 
8ek 


no  Uncle  and  Nephew 

"No,"  he  answered  aloud.  "  The  laundry  business  may- 
be a  very  good  one — I  should  like  the  income  it  pro- 
duces even  now — but  I  don't  think  I  have  the  necessary 
talent  for  it.  My  Chinese  friend  was  a  commission  mer- 
chant worth  at  least  a  hundred  thousand  dollars.  I  wasn't 
above  borrowing  money  from  him  sometimes." 

"  Of  course,  that  makes  a  difference,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy, 
desiring  to  make  peace  between  her  brother  and  son. 
*'  He  must  have  been  a  superior  man.  Harold  thought 
you  meant  a  common  Chinaman,  such  as  we  have  in 
Chicago." 

The  reunited  family  sat  down  to  supper  together. 

After  supper  Warner  made  an  excuse  for  going  out. 

"  I  have  an  engagement  with  a  friend  who  knows  of  a 
position  he  thinks  I  can  secure,"  he  said. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  be  late,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy. 

"  No,  I  presume  not,  but  you  had  better  give  me  a  pass 
key." 

Mrs.  Tracy  did  so  reluctantly.  She  was  afraid  Harold 
might  want  to  j  oin  his  uncle ;  but  the  nephew  was  not 
taken  with  his  new  relative,  and  made  no  such  proposal. 

In  reality,  Warner  Powell  had  made  an  engagement  to 
go  to  McVicker's  Theater  with  his  friend  Stephen  Webb, 
who  had  arranged  to  meet  him  at  the  Sherman  House. 

While  waiting,  Warner,  who  had  an  excellent  memory 
for  faces,  recognized  Luke,  who  was  selling  papers  at  his 
usual  post.  There  was  some  startling  news  in  the  evening 
papers — a  collision  on  Lake  Micliigan — and  Luke  had 
ordered  an  unusual  supply,  which  occupied  him  later  than 
his  ordinary  hour.  He  had  taken  a  hasty  supper  at 
Brockway  &  Milan's,  foreseeing  that  he  would  not  be  home 
till  late. 

"^  Aunt  Eliza's  boy !  "  thought  Warner.  "  I  may  as 
well  take  this  opportunity  to  cultivate  his  acquaintance." 

He  went  up  to  Luke  and  asked  for  a  paper. 

"  You  don't  remember  me  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  smile. 

"  No,"  answered  Luke,  looking  puzzled. 

"  I  saw  you  on  Prairie  Avenue  this  morning.  Mrs. 
Merton  is  my  aimt." 


Harold's  Temptation  1 1 1 

"  I  remember  you  now.  Are  you  Mrs.  Tracy's 
brother.'"' 

"  Yes,  and  the  uncle  of  Harold.  How  do  you  and  Har- 
old get  along  .P  " 

"  Not  at  all.     He  takes  very  little  notice  of  me." 

"  He  is  a  snob.  Being  his  uncle,  I  take  the  liberty  to 
say  it." 

"  There  is  no  love  lost  between  us,"  Luke  said.  "  I  would 
like  to  be  more  friendly,  but  he  treats  me  like  an  enemy." 

"  He  is  jealous  of  your  favor  with  my  aimt." 

"  There  is  no  occasion  for  it.  He  is  a  relative,  and  I 
am  only  in  her  employ." 

"  She  thinks  a  good  deal  of  you,  doesn't  she  ?  " 

"  She  treats  me  very  kindly." 

"  Harold  suggested  to  me  this  evening  at  supper  that 
I  should  take  your  place.  You  needn't  feel  anxious.  I 
have  no  idea  of  doing  so,  and  she  wouldn't  have  me  if  I 
had." 

"  I  think  a  man  like  you  could  do  better," 

""^I  am  willing  to.  But  here  comes  my  friend,  who  is 
going  to  the  theater  with  me." 

Looking  up,  Luke  was  surprised  to  see  Stephen  Webb. 


CHAPTER   XXVIH 

habold's  temptation 

Mrs.  Merton  was  rather  astonished  when  her  grand- 
nephew  Harold  walked  into  her  room  one  day  and  inquired 
for  her  health.  (She  had  been  absent  from  the  dinner 
table  on  account  of  a  headache.) 

"Thank  you,  Harold,"  she  said.  "  I  am  feeling  a  little 
better." 

"  Have  you  any  errand  you  would  like  to  have  me  do 
for  you?  " 

Mrs.  Merton  was  still  more  surprised,  for  offers  of 
services  were  rare  with  Harold. 

"  Thank  you,  again,"  she  said,  "  but  Luke  was  here 
this  morning,  a,nd  I  gave  him  two  or  three  commissions." 


112  Harold's  Temptation 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  me  to  read  to  you,  Aunt 
Eliza." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  am  a  little  afraid  it  wouldn't  be 
a  good  thing  for  my  head.  How  are  you  getting  on  at 
school,  Harold?  " 

"  Pretty  weU." 

*'  You  don't  want  to  go  to  college  ?  " 

*'  No.     I  think  I  would  rather  be  a  business  man." 

"  Well,  you  know  your  own  tastes  best." 

"  Aunt  Eliza,"  said  Harold,  after  a  pause,  "  I  want 
to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

"  Speak  out,  Harold." 

"  Won't  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  me  ten  dollars  ?  " 

"  Ten  dollars,"  repeated  the  old  lady,  eying  Harold 
closely.     "  Why  do  you  want  ten  dollars  ?  " 

"  You  see,  mother  keeps  me  very  close.  All  the  fellows 
have  more  money  to  spend  than  I." 

"  How  much  does  your  mother  give  you  as  an  allow- 
ance.? " 

"  Two  dollars  a  week." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  is  liberal,  considering  that  you 
don't  have  to  pay  for  your  board  or  clothes." 

"  A  boy  in  my  position  is  expected  to  spend  money." 

"  Who  expects  it?  " 

"  Why,  everybody." 

"  By  the  way,  what  is  your  position  ?  "  asked  the  old 
lady,  pointedly. 

"  Why,"  said  Harold,  uneasily,  "  I  am  supposed  to  be 
rich,  as  I  live  in  a  nice  neighborhood  on  a  fashionable 
street." 

"  That  doesn't  make  you  rich,  does  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Harold,  with  hesitation. 

"  You  don't  feel  absolutely  obliged  to  spend  more  than 
your  allowance,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  the  fellows  think  I  am  mean  if  I  don't. 
There's  Ben  Clark  has  an  allowance  of  five  dollars  a  week, 
and  he  is  three  months  younger  than  I  am." 

"  Then  I  think  his  parents  or  guardians  are  very  un- 
wise.    How  does  he  spend  his  liberal  allowance  ?  " 


Harold's  Temptation  115 

"  Oh,  he  has  a  good  time." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  isn't  the  sort  of  good  time  I  would  ap- 
prove." 

"  Luke  has  more  money  than  I  have,  and  he  is  only  a 
newsboy,"  grumbled  Harold. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  notice  he  always  has  money." 

"  I  doubt  whether  he  spends  half  a  dollar  a  week  on 
his  own  amusement.  He  has  a  mother  and  young  brother 
to  support." 

"  He  says  so ! "  •  , 

"  So  you  doubt  it?  " 

"  It  may  be  true." 

"  If  you  find  it  isn't  true  you  can  let  me  know." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  think  so  much  more  of  Luke 
than  of  me,"  complained  Harold. 

"  How  do  you  know  I  do  ?  " 

"  Mother  thinks  so  as  well  as  I." 

"  Suppose  we  leave  Luke  out  of  consideration.  I  shall 
think  as  much  of  you  as  you  deserve." 

Harold  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  As  you  have  no  errand  for  me,  Aunt  Eliza,  I  will 
go,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Merton  unlocked  a  drawer  in  a  work  table,  took  out 
a  pocketbook,  and  extracted  therefrom  a  ten-dollar-bill. 

"  You  have  asked  me  a  favor,  and  I  will  grant  it — for 
once,"  she  said.     "  Here  are  ten  dollars." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Harold,  joyfully. 

"  I  won't  even  ask  how  you  propose  to  spend  it.  T 
thought  of  doing  so,  but  it  wovild  imply  distrust,  and  for 
this  occasion  I  won't  show  any." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Aunt  Eliza." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  You  are  welcome  to  the 
money." 

Harold  left  the  room  in  high  -spirits.  He  decided  not 
to  let  his  mother  know  that  he  had  received  so  large 
a  sum,  as  she  might  inquire  to  what  use  he  intended  to 
put  it ;  and  some  of  his  expenditures,  he  felt  pretty  sure, 
would  not  be  approved  by  her. 


114  Harold's  Temptation 

He  left  the  house,  and  going  downtown,  joined  a  couple 
of  friends  of  his  own  stamp.  They  adjourned  to  a  billiard 
saloon,'  and  between  billiards,  bets  upon  the  game,  and 
drinks,  Harold  managed  to  spend  three  dollars  before 
suppertime. 

Three  days  later  the  entire  sum  given  him  by  his  aunt 
was  gone. 

When  Harold  made  the  discovery,  he  sighed.  His 
dream  was  over.  It  had  been  pleasant  as  long  as  it  lasted, 
but  it  was  over  too  soon. 

"  Now  I  must  go  back  to  my  mean  allowance,"  he  said 
to  himself,  in  a  discontented  tone.  "  Aunt  Eliza  might 
give  me  ten  dollars  every  week  just  as  well  as  not.  She  is 
positively  rolHng  in  wealth,  while  I  have  to  grub  along  like 
a  newsboy.  Why,  that  fellow  Luke  has  a  great  deal  more 
money  than  I." 

A  little  conversation  which  he  had  with  his  Uncle 
Warner  made  his  discontent  more  intense. 

"Hello,  Harold,  what  makes  you  look  so  blue?"  he 
asked  one  day. 

"  Because  I  haven't  got  any  money,"  answered  Harold. 

"  Doesn't  your  mother  or  Aunt  Eliza  give  you  any  ?  " 

"  I  get  a  little,  but  it  isn't  as  much  as  the  other  fellows 
get." 

"How  much?" 

"Two  dollars  a  week." 

"  It  is  more  than  I  had  when  I  was  of  your  age." 

"  That  doesn't  make  it  any  better." 

"  Aunt  Ehza  isn't  exactly  lavish ;  still,  she  pays  Luke 
Walton  generously." 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  he  gets  a  week?  "  asked  Har- 
old, eagerly. 

"  Ten  dollars." 

"  Ten  dollars !  "  ejaculated  Harold.  "  You  don't  really 
mean  it." 

"  Yes,  I  do.  I  saw  her  pay  him  that  sum  yesterday. 
I  asked  her  if  it  wasn't  liberal.  She  admitted  it,  but  said 
he  had  a  mother  and  brother  to  support." 

"  It's  a  shame !  "  cried  Harold,  passionately. 


Harold's  Theft  115 

"Why  is  it?     The  money  is  her  own,  isn't  it?" 

"  She  ought  not  to  treat  a  stranger  better  than  her  own 
nephew." 

"  That  means  me,  I  judge,"  said  Warner,  smiling. 
*'  Well,  there  isn't  anything  we  can  do  about  it,  is  there  ?  '* 

"  No,  I  don't  know  as  there  is,"  replied  Harold,  slowly. 

But  he  thought  over  what  his  uncle  had  told  him,  and  it 
made  him  very  bitter.  He  brooded  over  it  till  it  seemed 
to  him  as  if  it  were  a  great  outrage.  He  felt  that  he  was 
treated  with  the  greatest  injustice.  He  was  incensed  with 
his  aunt,  but  still  more  so  with  Luke  Walton,  whom  he 
looked  upon  as  an  artful  adventurer. 

It  was  while  he  was  cherishing  these  feelings  that  a 
great  temptation  came  to  him.  He  found,  one  day  in 
the  street,  a  bunch  of  keys  of  various  sizes  attached  to  a 
small  steel  ring.  He  picked  it  up,  and  quick  as  a  flash 
there  came  to  him  the  thought  of  the  drawer  in  his  aunt's 
work  table,  from  which  he  had  seen  her  take  out  the  mo- 
rocco pocketbook.  He  had  observed  that  the  ten-dollar 
bill  she  gave  him  was  only  one  out  of  a  large  roll,  and  his 
cupidity  was  aroused.  He  rapidly  concocted  a  scheme  by 
which  he  would  be  enabled  to  provide  himself  with  money, 
and  throw  suspicion  upon  Luke. 

CHAPTER    XXIX 

Harold's  theft 

The  next  morning,  Mrs.  Merton,  escorted  by  Luke, 
went  to  make  some  purchases  in  the  city.  Mrs.  Tracy 
went  out,  also,  having  an  engagement  with  one  of  her 
friends  living  on  Cottage  Grove  Avenue.  Harold  went  out 
directly  after  breakfast,  but  returned  at  half-past  ten. 
He  went  upstairs  and  satisfied  himself  that  except  the  ser- 
vants, he  was  alone  in  the  house, 

"  The  coast  is  clear,"  he  said,  joyfully.  "  Now  if  the 
key  only  fits." 

He  went  to  his  aunt's  sitting  room,  and,  not  antici- 
pating any  interruption,  directed  his  steps  a  once  to  the 
small  table,  from  a  drawer  in  which  he  had  seen  Mrs.  Mer- 


Il6  Harold's  Theft 

ton  take  the  morocco  pocketbook.  He  tried  one  key  after 
another,  and  finally  succeeded  in  opening  the  drawer.  He 
drew  it  out  with  nervous  anxiety,  fearing  that  the  pocket- 
book  might  have  been  removed,  in  which  case  all  his  work 
would  have  been  thrown  away. 

But  no!  Fortune  favored  him  this  time,  if  it  can  be 
called  a  favor.  There,  in  plain  sight,  was  the  morocco 
pocketbook.  Harold,  pale  with  excitement,  seized  and 
opened  it.  His  eyes  glistened  as  he  saw  that  it  was  well 
filled.  He  took  out  the  roll  of  bills,  and  counted  them. 
There  were  five  ten-dollar  bills  and  three  fives — sixty-five 
<iollars  in  all.  There  would  have  been  more,  but  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton,  before  going  out,  had  taken  four  fives,  which  she  in- 
tended to  use. 

It  was  Harold's  first  theft,  and  he  trembled  with  agi- 
tation as  he  thrust  the  pocketbook  into  his  pocket.  He 
would  have  trembled  still  more  if  he  had  known  that  his 
mother's  confidential  maid  and  seamstress,  Fehcie  Lacou- 
vreur,  had  seen  everything  through  the  crevice  formed  by 
the  half-open  door. 

Felicie  smiled  to  herself  as  she  moved  noiselessly  away 
from  her  post  of  concealment. 

"  Master  Harold  is  trying  a  dangerous  experiment," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  Now  he  is  in  my  power.  He  has 
been  insolent  to  me  more  than  once,  as  if  he  were  made  of 
superior  clay,  but  Felicie,  though  only  a  poor  servant,  is 
not,  thank  Heaven,  a  thief,  as  he  is.  It  is  a  very  inter- 
esting drama.  I  shall  wait  patiently  till  it  is  quite  played 
out." 

In  his  hurry,  Harold  came  near  leaving  the  room  with 
the  table  drawer  open.  But  he  bethought  himself  in 
time,  went  back,  and  locked  it  securely.  It  was  like  shut- 
ting the  stable  door  after  the  horse  was  stolen.  Then, 
with  the  stolen  money  in  his  possession,  he  left  the  house. 
He  did  not  wish  to  be  found  at  home  when  his  aunt  re- 
turned. 

Harold  had  sixty-five  dollars  in  his  pocket — an  amount 
■quite  beyond  what  he  had  ever  before  had  at  his  disposal 
— but  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  did  not  feel  as  happy 


Harold's  Theft  117 

as  hie  had  expected.  If  he  had  come  by  it  honestly — ^if, 
for  instance,  it  had  been  given  hini — his  heart  would  have 
beat  high  with  extdtation,  but  as  it  was,  he  walked  along 
with  clouded  brow.  Presently  he  ran  across  one  of  his 
friends,  who  noticed  his  discomposure. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Harold  ?  "  he  asked.  "  You  are  in 
the  dumps." 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  Harold,  forcing  himself  to  assume 
a  more  cheerful  aspect.     "  I  have  no  reason  to  feel  blue." 

"  You  are  only  acting,  then  ?  I  must  congratulate  you 
on  your  success.  You  look  for  all  the  world  like  the 
iKnight  of  the  Sorrowful  Countenance." 

"  Who  is  he?  "  asked  Harold,  who  was  not  literary. 

"  Don  Quixote.    Did  you  never  hear  of  him  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  your  education  has  been  neglected.  What  are 
you  going  to  do  to-day  ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Suppose  we  visit  a  dime  museum?  " 

«  All  right." 

"  That  is,  if  you  have  any  money.    I  am  high  and  dry." 

"  Yes,  I  have  some  money." 

They  went  to  a  dime  museum  on  Clark  Street. 

Harold  surprised  his  companion  by  paying  for  the  two 
tickets  out  of  a  five-dollar  bill. 

"  You're  flush,  Harold,"  said  his  friend.  "  Has  any- 
body left  you  a  fortune.''  " 

"  No,"  answered  Harold,  uneasily.  **  I've  been  saving 
up  money  lately." 

"You  have?  Why,  I've  heard  of  your  being  at  thea- 
ters, playing  billiards,  and  so  on." 

"  Look  here,  Robert  Greve,  I  don't  see  why  you  need 
trouble  yourself  so  much  about  where  I  get  my  money." 

"Don't  be  cranky,  Harold,"  said  Robert,  good-hu- 
moredly,  "  I  won't  say  another  word.  Only  I  am  glad  to 
find  my  friends  in  a  healthy  financial  condition.  I  only 
wish  I  could  say  the  same  of  myself."  ♦ 

There  happened  to  be  a  matinee  at  the  Grand  Opera 
House,  and  Harold  proposed  going.    First,  however,  they 


ii8  Harold's  Theft 

took  a  nice  lunch  at  Brockway  &  Milan's,  a  mammoth  res- 
taurant on  Clark  Street,  Harold  paying  the  bill. 

As  they  came  out  of  the  theater,  Luke  Walton  chanced 
to  pass. 

"  Good-afternoon,  Harold,"  he  said. 

Harold  tossed  his  head,  but  did  not  reply. 

**  Who  is  that  boy — one  of  your  acquaintances  ?  "  asked 
Robert  Greve. 

"  He  works  for  my  aunt,"  answered  Harold.  "  It  is 
like  his  impudence  to  speak  to  me." 

"  Why  shouldn't  he  speak  to  you,  if  you  know  him  ?  " 
said  Robert  Greve,  who  did  not  share  Harold's  foolish 
pride. 

"  He  appears  to  think  he  is  my  equal,"  continued 
Harold. 

"  He  seems  a  nice  boy." 

"  You  don't  know  him  as  I  do.  He  is  a  common 
newsboy." 

"  Suppose  he  is ;  that  doesn't  hurt  him,  does  it  ?  " 

"  You  don't  know  what  I  mean.  You  don't  think  a 
common  newsboy  fit  to  associate  with  on  equal  terms,  do 


you 


?>' 


Robert  Greve  laughed. 

"  You  are  too  high-toned,  Harold,"  he  said.  "  If  he 
is  a  nice  boy,  I  don't  care  what  sort  of  business  a  friend 
of  mine  follows." 

"  Well,  I  do,"  snapped  Harold,  "  and  so  does  my  mo- 
ther. I  don't  believe  in  being  friends  with  the  ragtag 
and  bobtail  of  society." 

Luke  Walton  did  not  allow  his  feelings  to  be  hurt  by 
the  decided  rebuff  he  had  received  from  Harold. 

"  I  owe  it  to  myself  to  act  hke  a  gentleman,"  he  re- 
flected. "  If  Harold  doesn't  choose  to  be  pohte,  it  is  his 
lookout,  not  mine.  He  looks  down  upon  me  because  I  am 
a  working  boy.  I  don't  mean  always  to  be  a  newsboy  or 
an  errand  boy.  I  shall  work  my  way  upwards  as  fast 
as  I  can,  and,  in  time,  I  may  come  to  fill  a  good  place  in 
society." 

It  will  be  seen  that  Luke  was  ambitious.     He  looked 


Luke  Walton  is  Suspected  of  Theft     119 

above  and  beyond  the  present,  and  determined  to  improve 
his  social  condition. 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  Harold  ascended  the  steps  of 
the  mansion  on  Prairie  Avenue.  He  had  devoted  the  day 
to  amusement,  but  had  derived  very  little  pleasure  from 
the  money  he  had  expended.  He  had  very  little  left  of 
the  five-doUar  bill  which  he  had  first  changed  at  the  dime 
museum.  It  was  not  easy  to  say  where  his  money  had 
gone,  but  it  had  melted  away,  in  one  shape  or  another. 

"  I  wonder  whether  Aunt  Eliza  has  discovered  her  loss," 
thought  Harold.  "  I  hope  I  shan't  show  any  signs  of 
nervousness  when  I  meet  her.  I  don't  see  how  she  can 
possibly  suspect  me.  If  anything  is  said  about  the  lost 
pocketbook,  I  wiU  try  to  throw  suspicion  on  Luke 
Walton." 

Harold  did  not  stop  to  think  how  mean  this  would  be. 
Self-preservation,  it  has  been  said,  is  the  first  law  of  na- 
ture, and  self-preservation  required  that  he  should  avert 
suspicion  from  himself  by  any  means  in  his  power.  He 
went  into  the  house  whistling,  as  if  to  show  that  his  mind 
was  quite  free  from  care. 

In  the  hall  he  met  Felicie. 

"  What  do  you  think  has  happened.  Master  Harold.? " 
asked  the  French  maid. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure." 

"  Your  aunt  has  been  robbed.  Some  money  has  been 
taken  froni  her  room." 

CHAPTER    XXX 

LUKE   WALTON    IS    SUSPECTED    OP    THEFT 

Harold  was  prepared  for  the  announcement,  as  he  felt 
confident  his  aunt  would  soon  discover  her  loss,  but  he  felt 
a  httle  nervous,  nevertheless. 

"You  don't  mean  it.?"'  he  ejaculated,  in  weU-counter- 
feited,  surprise. 

"  It's  a  fact." 

"  When  did  Aunt  Eliza  discover  her  loss,  Felicie  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  she  got  home.     She  went  to  her  drawer. 


I20     Luke  Walton  is  Suspected  of  Theft 

to  put  back  some  money  she  had  on  hand,  and  found  the 
pocketbook  gone." 

"  Was  there  much  money  in  it  ?  " 

"  She  doesn't  say  how  much." 

"  Well,"  said  Harold,  thinking  it  time  to  carry  on  the 
programme  he  had  determined  upon,  "  I  can't  say  I  am 
surprised." 

"  You  are  not  surprised ! "  repeated  Felicie,  slowly. 
*'  Why  ?     Do  you  know  anything  about  it  ?  " 

"  Do  I  know  anything  about  it  ?  "  said  Harold,  color- 
ing.    "  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  Because  you  say  you  are  not  surprised.  I  was  sur- 
prised, and  so  was  the  old  lady  and  your  mother." 

"  You  must  be  very  stupid  not  to  understand  what  I 
mean,"  said  Harold,  annoyed. 

"  Then  I  am  very  stupid,  for  I  do  not  know  at  all 
why  you  are  not  surprised." 

"  I  mean  that  the  boy  Aunt  Eliza  employs — that  boy, 
Luke  has  taken  the  money." 

"  Oh,  you  think  the  boy,  Luke,  has  taken  the  money." 

"  Certainly !  Why  shouldn't  he  ?  He  is  a  poor  news- 
boy. It  would  be  a  great  temptation  to  him.  You  know 
he  is  always  shown  into  Aunt  Eliza's  sitting  room,  and  is 
often  there  alone." 

"  That  is  true." 

"  And,  of  course,  nothing  is  more  natural  than  that 
he  should  take  the  money." 

"  But  the  drawer  was  locked." 

"  He  had  some  keys  in  his  pocket,  very  likely.  Most 
boys  have  keys." 

"  Oh,  most  boys  have  keys.  Have  you,  perhaps,  keys, 
Master  Harold.?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  are  asking  very  foolish  ques- 
tions, Felicie.    I  have  the  key  of  my  trunk." 

"  But  do  newsboys  have  trunks .?  Why  should  this  boy, 
Luke,  have  keys.f*     I  do  not  see." 

"  Well,  I'll  go  upstairs,"  said  Harold,  who  was  get- 
ting tired  of  the  interview,  and  rather  uneasy  at  Felicie's 
remarks  and  questions." 


Luke  Walton  is  Suspected  of  Theft      121 

As  Felecie  had  said,  Mrs.  Merton  discovered  her  loss 
almost  as  soon  as  she  came  home.  She  had  used  but  a 
small  part  of  the  money  he  took  with  her,  and,  not  caring 
to  carry  it  about  with  her,  opened  the  drawer  to  replace 
it  in  the  pocketbook. 

To  her  surprise  the  pocketbook  had  disappeared. 

Now,  the  contents  of  the  pocketbook,  though  a  very 
respectable  sum,  were  not  sufficient  to  put  Mrs.  Merton 
to  any  inconvenience.  Still,  no  one  likes  to  lose  money, 
especially  if  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  it  has  been 
stolen,  and  Mrs.  Merton  felt  annoyed.  She  drew  out 
the  drawer  to  its  fuU  extent,  and  examined  it  carefully 
in  every  part,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  the  morocco 
pocketbook. 

She  locked  the  door  and  went  downstairs  to  her  niece. 

"  What's  the  matter.  Aunt  Ehza  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tracy, 
seeing,  at  a  glance,  from  her  aunt's  expression,  that  some- 
thing had  happened. 

"  There  is  a  thief  in  the  house ! "  said  the  old  lady, 
abruptly. 

"  What ! " 

"  There  is  a  thief  in  the  house !  " 

"What  makes  you  think  so.?  "     . 

"  You  remember  my  small  work  table  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  keeping  a  supply  of  money 
in  a  pocketbook  in  one  of  the  drawers.  I  just  opened 
the  drawer,  and  the  money  is  gone ! " 

"Was  there  much  money  in  the  pocketbook.''" 

"  I  happen  to  know  just  how  much.  There  were  sixty- 
five  doUars." 

"  And  you  can  find  nothing  of  the  pocketbook.'*  " 

"  No ;  that  and  the  money  are  both  gone." 

**  I  am  sorry  for  your  loss.  Aunt  Eliza." 

"  I  don't  care  for  the  money.  I  shall  not  miss  it.  I 
am  amply  provided  with  funds,  thanks  to  Providence. 
(But  it  is  the  mystery  that  puzzles  me.  Who  can  have 
robbed  me  ?  " 

Mrs.  Tracy  nodded  her  head  significantly. 


122     Luke  Walton  is  Suspected  of  Theft 

"  I  don't  think  there  need  be  any  mystery  about  that," 
she  said,  pointedly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  can  guess  who  robbed  you." 

*'  Then  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  enhghten  me,  for 
I  am  quite  at  a  loss  to  fix  upon  the  thief." 

"  It's  that  boy  of  yours,     I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it." 

"  You  mean  Luke  Walton  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  newsboy,  whom  you  have  so  imprudently 
trusted;" 

"  What  are  your  reasons  for  thinking  he  is  a  thief.'* " 
asked  the  old  lady  calmly. 

"  He  is  often  alone  in  the  room  where  the  work  table 
stands,  is  he  not."^  " 

"  Yes ;  he  waits  for  me  there." 

"  What  could  be  easier  than  for  him  ,to  open  the 
drawer  and  abstract  the  pocketbook?  " 

"  It  would  be  possible,  but  he  would  have  to  unlock  the 
drawer." 

"  Probably  he  took  an  impression  of  the  lock  some  day, 
and  had  a  key  made." 

"  You  are  giving  him  credit  for  an  unusual  amount  of 
cunning." 

"  I  always  supposed  he  was  sly." 

"  I  am  aware,  Louisa,  that  you  never  liked  the  boy." 

"  I  admit  that.  What  has  happened  seems  to  show 
that  I  was  i^ight." 

"  Now  you  are  jumping  to  conclusions.  You  decide, 
without  any  proof,  or  even  investigation,  that  Luke  took 
the  money." 

"  I  feel  convinced  of  it." 

"  It  appears  to  me  that  you  are  not  treating  the  boy 
fairly." 

"  My  instinct  tells  me  that  it  is  he  who  has  robbed  you." 

"  Instinct  would  have  no  weight  in  law." 

"  If  he  didn't  take  it,  who  did?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tracy, 
triumphantly. 

"  That  question  is  not  easy  to  answer,  Louisa." 

"  I  am  glad  you  admit  so  much,  Aunt  Eliza." 


Luke  Walton  is  Suspected  of  Theft     123 

"  I  admit  nothing ;  but  I  will  think  over  the  matter 
carefully,  and  investigate." 

"  Do  so,  Aunt  Eliza !  In  the  end  you  will  agree  with 
me." 

"  In  the  meanwhile,  Louisa,  there  is  one  thing  I  must 
insist  upon." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  That  you  leave  the  matter  wholly  in  my  hands."  , 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it." 

"  There  are  some  circumstances  connected  with  the 
robbery,  which  I  have  not  mentioned." 

"  What  ar»  they  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tracy,  her  face  express- 
ing curiosity. 

"  I  shall  keep  them  to  myself  for  the  present." 

Mrs.  Tracy  looked  disappointed. 

"  If  you  mention  them  to  me,  I  may  think  of  something 
that  would  help  you." 

"  If  I  need  help  in  that  way,  I  will  come  to  you." 

*'  Meanwhile,  shall  you  continue  to  employ  the  boy?  " 

"Yes;  why  not?" 

"  He  might  steal  something  more." 

"  I  will  risk  it." 

Mrs.  Merton  returned  to  her  room,  and  presently  Har- 
old entered  his  mother's  presence. 

"  What  is  this  I  hear  about  Aunt  Eliza  having  some 
Btioney  stolen  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  true.     She  has  lost  sixty-five  dollars." 

"  Felicie  told  me  something  about  it — that  it  was  taken 
out  of  her  drawer." 

Mrs.  Tracy  went  into  particulars,  unconscious  that  her 
son  was  better  informed  than  herself. 

"  Does  aunt  suspect  anyone?  "  asked  Harold,  uneasily. 

"  She  doesn't,  but  I  do." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  That  boy,  Luke  Walton." 

"  The  very  one  I  thought  of,"  said  Harold,  eagerly. 
"  Did  you  mention  him  to  Aunt  Eliza?  " 

'*  Yes ;  but  she  is  so  infatuated  with  him  that  she  didn't 
take  the  suggestion  kindly.     She  has  promised  to  inves- 


124  Who  Stole  the  Money? 

tigate,  however,  and  meanwhile  doesn't  want  us  to  inter- 
fere." 

"  Things  are  working  round  as  I  want  them,"  thought 
Harold. 

CHAPTER    XXXI 

WHO    STOLE    THE    MONEY.? 

Did  Mrs.  Merton  suspect  anyone  of  the  theft.?  This  is 
the  question  which  will  naturally  suggest  itself  to  the 
reader. 

No  thought  of  the  real  thief  entered  her  mind.  Though 
she  was  fully  sensible  of  Harold's  faults,  though  she  knew 
him  to  be  selfish,  bad-tempered,  and  envious,  she  did  not 
suppose  him  capable  of  theft.  The  one  who  occurred  to 
her  as  most  likely  to  have  robbed  her  was  her  recently  re- 
turned nephew,  Warner  Powell,  who  had  been  compelled 
to  leave  Chicago  years  before  on  account  of  having  yielded 
to  a  similar  temptation.  She  knew  that  he  was  hard  up 
for  money,  and  it  was  possible  that  he  had  opened  the 
table  drawer  and  abstracted  the  pocketbook.  As  to  Luke 
Walton,  she  was  not  at  all  affected  by  the  insinuations 
of  her  niece.  She  knew  that  Mrs.  Tracy  and  Harold  had 
a  prejudice  against  Luke,  and  that  this  would  make  them 
ready  to  believe  anything  against  him. 

She  was  curious,  however,  to  hear  what  Warner  had 
to  say  about  the  robbery.  Would  he,  too,  try  to  throw 
suspicion  upon  Luke  in  order  to  screen  himself,  if  he  were 
the  real  thief.?     This  remained  to  be  proved. 

Warner  Powell  did  not  return  to  the  house  tiU  five 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  His  sister  and  Harold  hastened 
to  inform  him  of  what  had  happened,  and  to  communicate 
their  conviction  that  Luke  was  the  thief.  Warner  said 
little,  but  his  own  suspicions  were  different.  He  went  up- 
stairs, and  made  his  aunt  a  call. 

"  Well,  aunt,"  he  said,  "  I  hear  that  you  have  been 
robbed." 

"  Yes,  Warner,  I  have  lost  some  money,"  answered  the 
old  lady,  composedly. 


Who  Stole  the  Money?  125 

"  Louisa  told  me." 

**  Yes ;  she  suspects  Luke  of  being  the  thief.  Do  you 
agree  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  answered  Warner. 

Mrs.  Merton's  face  brightened,  and  she  looked  kindly 
at  Warner. 

"  Then  you  don't  share  Louisa's  prejudice  against 
Luke?"  she  said. 

"  No ;  I  hke  the  boy.  I  would  sooner  suspect  myself 
of  stealing  the  money,  for,  you  know.  Aunt  Eliza,  that 
my  record  is  not  a  good  one,  and  I  am  sure  Luke  is  an 
honest  boy." 

Mrs.  Merton's  face  fairly  beamed  with  delight.  She 
imderstood  very  well  the  low  and  unworthy  motives  which 
influenced  her  niece  and  Harold,  and  it  was  a  gratifying 
surprise  to  find  that  her  nephew  was  free  from  envy  and 
jealousy. 

"  Warner,"  she  said,  "  what  you  say  does  you  credit. 
In  this  particular  case  I  happen  to  know  that  Luke  is 
innocent." 

"You  don't  know  the  real  thief.'"'  asked  Warner. 

"  No ;  but  my  reason  for  knowing  that  Luke  is  inno- 
cent I  will  tell  you.  The  money  was  safe  in  my  drawer 
when  I  went  out  this  morning.  It  was  taken  during  my 
absence  from  the  house.  Luke  was  with  me  during  this 
whole  time.  Of  course,  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  be 
the  thief." 

"  I  see.    Did  you  tell  Louisa  this  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  biding  my  time.  Besides,  I  am  more  Ukely 
to  find  the  real  thief  if  it  is  supposed  that  Luke  is  under 
suspicion." 

"  Tell  me  truly.  Aunt  Eliza,  didn't  you  suspect  me.''  " 

"  Since  you  ask  me,  Warner,  I  will  tell  you  frankly 
that  it  occurred  to  me  as  possible  that  you  might  have 
yielded  to  temptation."  - 

"  It  would  have  been  a  temptation,  for  I  have  but 
twenty-five  cents.  But  even  if  I  had  knoAvn  where  you 
kept  your  money  (which  I  didn't),  I  would  have  risked 
applying  to  you  for  a  loan,  or  gift,  as  it  would  have 

9  KK  ^ 


126  Who  Stole  the  Money? 

turned  out  to  be,  rather  than  fall  back  into  my  old  dis- 
reputable ways." 

"  I  am  very  much  encouraged  by  what  you  say,  War- 
ner. Here  are  ten  dollars.  Use  it  judiciously;  try  to 
obtain  employment,  and  when  it  is  gone,  you  may  let  me 
know." 

"  Aunt  Eliza,  you  are  kinder  to  me  than  I  deserve.  I 
*'ill  make  a  real  effort  to  secure  employment,  and  wiU  not 
abuse  your  confidence." 

"  Keep  that  promise,  Warner,  and  I  will  be  your  friend. 
One  thing  more:  don't  teU  Louisa  what  has  passed  be- 
tween us.  I  can,  at  any  time,  clear  Luke,  but  for  the 
present  I  will  let  her  think  I  am  uncertain  on  that  point. 
I  shall  not  forget  that  you  took  the  boy's  part  where  your 
sister  condemned  him." 

"  Louisa  and  Harold  can  see  no  good  in  the  boy ;  but  I 
have  observed  him  carefully,  and  formed  my  own  opinion." 

Warner  could  have  done  nothing  better  calculated  to 
win  his  aunt's  favor  than  to  express  a  favorable  opinion 
of  Luke.  It  must  be  said,  however,  in  justice  to  him, 
that  this  had  not  entered  into  his  calculations.  He  really 
felt  kindly  towards  the  boy  whom  his  sister  denounced  as 
"  sly  and  artful,"  and  hked  him  much  better  than  his  own 
nephew,  Harold,  who,  looking  upon  Warner  as  a  poor 
relation,  had  not  thought  it  necessary  to  treat  him  with 
much  respect  or  attention.  He  had  a  better  heart  and  a 
better  disposition  than  Mrs.  Tracy  or  Harold,  notwith- 
standing his  early  shortcomings. 

"  Who  could  have  been  the  thief?  "  Warner  asked  him- 
self, as  he  left  his  aunt's  sitting  room.  "  Could  it  have 
been  Harold?  " 

He  resolved  to  watch  his  nephew  carefully  and  seek  some 
clew  that  would  lead  to  a  solution  of  the  mystery. 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  my  nephew,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
don't  want  him  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  his  scapegrace 
uncle.  But  I  would  sooner  suspect  him  than  Luke  Wal- 
ton. They  say  blood  is  thicker  than  water,  but  I  confess 
that  I  like  the  newsboy  better  than  I  do  my  high-toned 
nephew." 


Who  Stole  the  Money?  127 

"  Have  you  made  any  discovery  of  the  thief,  Aunt 
[Eliza  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tracy,  as  her  aunt  seated  herself  at 
the  evening  repast. 

"  Nothing  positive,"  answered  the  old  lady,  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  Have  you  discovered  anything  at  all?  " 

"  I  have  discovered  who  is  not  the  thief,"  said  Mrs. 
Merton. 

"  Then  you  had  suspicions  ?  " 

"  No  definite  suspicions." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  well  to  talk  the  matter  freely  over  witH 
me?    Something  might  be  suggested." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Louisa,  but  I  think  it  would  be 
WeU  to  banish  this  disagreeable  matter  from  out  table  talk. 
If  I  should  stand  in  need  of  advice,  I  will  consult  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  obtrude  my  advice,  but  I  will  ven- 
ture to  suggest  that  you  caU  in  a  private  detective." 

Harold  looked  alarmed. 

"  I  wouldn't  bother  with  a  detective,"  he  said.  "  They 
don't  know  half  as  much  as  they  pretend." 

"  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  Harold,"  said  Mrs.  Mer-i 
ton.     "  I  will  act  as  my  own  detective." 

Save  for  the  compliment  to  Harold,  Mrs.  Tracy  was 
not  pleased  with  this  speeech  of  her  aunt. 

"  At  any  rate,"  she  said,  "  you  would  do  well  to  keep 
a  strict  watch  over  that  boy,  Luke  Walton." 

"  I  shall,"  answered  the  old  lady,  simply. 

Mrs.  Tracy  looked  triumphant. 

Warner  kept  silent,  but  a  transient  smile  passed  over 
his  face  as  he  saw  how  neatly  Aunt  Eliza  had  deceived 
his  astute  sister. 

"What  do  you  think,  Warner?"  asked  Mrs.  Tracy, 
desirous  of  additional  support. 

"  I  think  Aunt  Eliza  will  get  at  the  truth  sooner  or 
later.  Of  course  I  will  do  anything  to  help  her,  but  I 
don't  want  to  interfere." 

"  Don't  you  think  she  ought  to  discharge  Luke?  " 

"  If  she  did,  she  would  have  no  chance  of  finding  out 
l^rhether  he  was  guilty  or  not." 


128      Harold  and  Felicie*s  Arrangement 

"  That  is  true.     I  did  not  think  of  that." 

"  Warner  is  more  sensible  than  any  of  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Merton. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  changed  your  opinion  of  him," 
said  Mrs.  Tracy,  sharply. 

She  was  now  beginning  to  be  jealous  of  her  scapegrace 
brother. 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Warner,  smiling.  "  At  the  same  time 
I  don't  blame  aunt  for  her  former  opinion." 

The  next  morning  Harold  was  about  leaving  the  house, 
:when  Felicie,  the  French  maid,  came  up  softly,  and  said: 
*'  Master  Harold,  may  I  have  a  word  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  said  Harold,  impatiently. 

"  It  is  about  the  stolen  money,"  contmued  Felicie,  in 
her  soft  voice.  "  You  had  better  listen  to  what  I  have  to 
say.    I  have  found  out  who  took  it." 

Harold's  heart  gave  a  sudden  thump,  and  his  face  indi- 
cated dismay. 

CHAPTER    XXXH 

HAROLD   AND    FELICIE   MAKE   AN   ARRANGEMENT 

"  You  have  found  out  who  took  the  money  ?  "  stam- 
mered Harold. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  didn't  think  it  would  be  found  out  so  soon,"  said 
Harold,  trying  to  recover  his  equanimity.  "  Of  course  it 
was  taken  by  Luke  Walton." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  Felicie.  "  Luke  Wal- 
ton did  not  take  it." 

Harold's  heart  gave  another  thump.  He  scented  dan- 
ger, but  remained  silent. 

"  You  don't  ask  me  who  took  the  money  ?  "  said  Felicie, 
after  a  pause. 

"  Because  I  don't  believe  you  know,"  returned  Harold. 
*'  You've  probably  got  some  suspicion.''  " 

"  I  have  more  than  that.  The  person  who  took  the 
money  was  seen  at  his  work." 

Harold  turned  pale. 


Harold  and  Felicie's  Arrangement      129 

"  There  is  no  use  in  mincing  matters,"  continued  Fe- 
licie.     "  You  took  the  money." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  such  impertinence  ?  "  gasped 
Harold. 

"  It  is  no  impertinence.  If  you  doubt  my  knowledge^ 
I'll  tell  you  the  particulars.  You  opened  the  drawer  with 
one  of  a  bunch  of  keys  which  you  took  from  your  pockety 
took  out  a  morocco  pocketbook,  opened  it  and  counted  the 
roll  of  bills  which  it  contained,  then  put  the  pocketbook 
into  your  pocket,  locked  the  drawer  and  left  the  room." 

"  That's  a  fine  story,"  said  Harold,  forcing  himself  to 
speak.  "  I  dare  say  all  this  happened,  only  you  were  the 
one  who  opened  the  drawer." 

"  I  saw  it  all  through  a  crack  in  the  half-open  door," 
continued  Felicie,  not  taking  the  trouble  to  answer  his 
accusation.  "  If  you  want  further  proof,  suppose  you 
feel  in  your  pocket.  I  presume  the  pocketbook  is  there 
at  this  moment." 

Instinctively  Harold  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  then 
suddenly  withdrew  it,  as  if  his  fingers  were  burned,  for 
the  pocketbook  was  there  as  Felicie  had  said. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  said  Felicie,  as  she  drew 
from  her  pocket  a  bunch  of  keys.  "  I  foimd  this  bunch 
of  keys  in  your  room  this  morning." 

"  They  are  not  mine,"  answered  Harold,  hastily. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  They  are  the 
ones  you  had  in  your  hand  when  you  opened  the  drawer. 
I  think  this  is  the  key  you  used." 

"  The  keys  belong  to  you ! "  asserted  Harold,  desper- 
ately. 

"  Thank  you  for  giving  them  to  me,  but  I  shall  have  no 
use  for  them,"  said  Felicie,  coolly.  "  And  now,  Master 
Harold,  do  you  want  to  know  why  I  have  told  you  this 
little  story?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Harold,  feebly. 

"  Because  I  think  it  will  be  for  our  mutual  advantage 
to  come  to  an  understanding.  I  don't  want  to  inform 
your  aunt  of  what  I  have  seen  unless  you  compel  me  to 
do  so." 


130     Harold  and  Felicie's  Arrangement 

"  How  should  I  compel  you  to  do  so  ?  "  stammered  Har- 
old, uneasily. 

"  Step  into  the  parlor,  where  we  can  talk  comfortably. 
Your  aunt  is  upstairs,  and  your  mother  is  out,  so  that  no 
one  will  hear  us." 

Harold  felt  that  he  was  in  the  power  of  the  cunning 
Felicie,  and  he  followed  her  unresistingly. 

"  Sit  down  on  the  sofa,  and  we  will  talk  at  our  ease. 
I  will  keep  silent  about  this  matter,  and  no  one  else  knows 
a  word  about  it^,  if " 

"Well?" 

"  If  you  will  give  me  half  the  money." 

"  But,"  said  Harold,  who  now  gave  up  the  pretense  of 
denial,  "  I  have  spent  part  of  it." 

"  You  have  more  than  half  of  it  left.?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Give  me  thirty  dollars  and  I  will  be  content.  I  saw 
you  count  it.    There  were  sixty-five  dollars." 

"  I  don't  see  what  claim  you  have  to  it,"  said  Harold, 
angrily. 

"  I  have  as  much  as  you,"  answered  Felicie,  coolly. 
"  Still,  if  you  prefer  to  go  to  your  aunt,  own  up  that 
you  took  it,  and  take  the  consequences,  I  wiU  agree  not 
to  interfere.  But  if  I  am  to  keep  the  secret,  I  want  to 
be  paid  for  it." 

Harold  thought  it  over;  he  hated  to  give  up  so  large 
a  part  of  his  plunder,  for  he  had  appropriated  it  in 
his  own  mind  to  certain  articles  which  he  wished  to 
purchase. 

"  I'll  give  you  twenty  dollars,"  he  said. 

"  No,  I  will  take  thirty  dollars,  or  go  to  your  aunt  and 
tell  her  all  I  know." 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  Poor  Harold  took  out  three 
ten-dollar  bills,  reluctantly  enough,  and  gave  them  to 
Felicie. 

"  All  right.  Master  Harold !  You've  done  wisely.  I 
thought  you  would  see  matters  in  the  right  light.  Think 
how  shocked  your  mother  and  Aunt  Eliza  would  be  if  they 
had  discovered  that  you  were  the  thief." 


'  Harold  and  Felicie's  Arrangement       131 

"  Don't  use  such  language,  Felicie !  "  said  Harold,  winc- 
ing.    "  There  is  no  need  to  refer  to  it  again." 

"  As  you  say,  Master  Harold.  I  won't  detain  you  any 
longer  from  your  walk,"  and  Felicie,  with  a  smile,  rose 
from  the  sofa  and  left  the  room,  Harold  following. 

"  Don't  disturb  yourself  any  more,"  she  said,  as  she 
opened  the  door  for  Harold.  "  It  will  never  be  known. 
Besides,  your  aunt  can  well  afford  to  lose  this  httle  sum. 
She  is  actually  rolling  in  wealth.  She  ought  to  be  more 
liberal  to  you." 

"  So  she  ought,  Felicie.  If  she  had,  this  would  not  have 
happened." 

"  Very  true.  At  the  same  time,  I  don't  suppose  a  jury 
would  accept  this  as  an  excuse." 

"  Why  do  you  say  such  things,  Felicie  ?  What  has  a 
jury  got  to  do  with  me?  " 

"  Nothing,  I  hope.  Still,  if  it  were  a  poor  boy  that 
had  taken  the  money,  Luke  Walton,  for  instance,  he 
might  have  been  arrested.  Excuse  me,  I  see  this  annoys 
you.  Let  me  give  you  one  piece  of  advice.  Master 
Harold." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Get  rid  of  that  morocco  pocketbook  as  soon  as  you 
can.  If  it  were  found  on  you,  or  you  should  be  careless, 
and  leave  it  anywhere,  you  would  give  yourself  away,  my 
friend." 

"  You  are  right,  Felicie,"  said  Harold,  hurriedly. 
"  Good-morning ! " 

"  Good-morning,  and  a  pleasant  walk,  my  friend,"  said 
Felicie,  mockingly. 

When  Harold  was  fairly  out  in  the  street,  he  groaned 
in  spirit.  He  had  lost  half  the  fruits  of  his  theft,  and  his 
secret  had  become  known.  Felicie  had  proved  too  much 
for  him,  and  he  felt  that  he  hated  her. 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  mother  to  discharge  her,  with- 
out her  knowing  that  it  was  I  who  had  brought  it  about. 
I  shall  not  feel  safe  as  long  as  she  is  in  the  house.  Why 
didn't  I  have  the  sense  to  shut  and  lock  the  door?  Then 
she  wouldn't  have  seen  me." 


132  Harold's  Plot  Fails 

Then  the  thought  of  the  morocco  pocketbook  occurred 
to  him.  He  felt  that  Felicie  was  right — that  it  was  im- 
prudent to  carry  it  around.  He  must  get  rid  of  it  in  some 
way. 

He  took  the  money  out  and  put  it  in  another  pocket. 
The  pocketbook  he  replaced  tiU  he  should  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  disposing  of  it. 

Hardly  had  he  made  these  preparations  when  he  met 
Luke  Walton,  who  had  started  unusually  early,  and  was 
walking  towards  the  house.    An  idea  came  to  Harold. 

"  Good-morning,  Luke ! "  he  said,  in  an  unusually 
friendly  tone. 

"  Good-morning,  Harold !  "  answered  Luke,  agreeably 
surprised  by  the  other's  cordiality. 

"  Are  you  going  out  with  Aunt  Ehza  this  morning?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure  whether  she  will  want  to  go  out.  I 
shall  call  and  inquire." 

"  You  seem  to  be  quite  a  favorite  of  hers." 

"  I  hope  I  am.    She  always  treats  me  kindly." 

"  I  reaUy  believe  she  thinks  more  of  you  than  she  does 
of  me." 

"  You  mustn't  think  that,"  said  Luke,  modestly.  "  You 
are  a  relation,  and  I  am  only  in  her  employ." 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  trouble  me.  I  am  bound  for  the  city. 
I  think  I  shall  take  the  next  car,  good-day !  " 

"Good-day,  Harold!" 

Luke  walked  on,  quite  imconscious  that  Harold,  as  he 
passed  by  his  side,  had  managed  to  slip  the  morocco  wal- 
let into  the  pocket  of  his  sack  coat. 


CHAPTER     XXXIII 

Harold's  plot  pails 

Luke  wore  a  sack  coat  with  side  pockets.  It  was  this 
circumstance  that  had  made  it  easy  for  Harold  to  transfer 
the  wallet  unsuspected  to  his  pocket. 

Quite  ignorant  of  what  had  taken  place,  Luke  kept 
on  his  way  to  Mrs.  Merton's  house.     He  rang  the  bell. 


Harold's  Plot  Fails  i 


33 


and  on  being  admitted,  went  up,  as  usual,  to  the  room  of 
his  patroness. 

"  Good  morning,  Luke,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  pleasantly. 

"  Good-morning,"  responded  Luke. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  go  out  this  morning,  and  I  don't 
think  of  any  commission,  so  you  wiU  have  a  vacation." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  earning  my  money,  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton.   You  make  it  very  easy  for  me." 

"  At  any  rate,  Luke,  the  money  is  cheerfully  given,  and 
I  have  no  doubt  you  find  it  useful.  How  are  you  getting 
along?  " 

"Very  weU,  indeed!  I  have  just  made  the  last  pay- 
ment on  mother's  machine,  and  now  we  owe  nothing,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  for  the  rent,  and  only  a  week  has  gone  by 
on  the  new  month." 

"  You  seem  to  be  a  good  manager,  Luke.  You  succeed 
in  keeping  your  money,  while  I  have  not  always  found  it 
easy.    Yesterday,  for  instance,  I  lost  sixty-five  dollars." 

"  How  was  that  ?  "  inquired  Luke,  with  interest. 

"  The  drawer  in  which  I  keep  a  pocketbook  was  un- 
locked, and  this,  with  its  contents,  was  stolen." 

"  Don't  you  suspect  anyone?  " 

"  I  did,  but  he  has  cleared  himself,  in  my  opinion.  It 
is  possible  it  was  one  of  the  servants." 

At  this  moment  Luke  pulled  his  handkerchief  from  his 
side  pocket  and  with  it  came  the  morocco  pocketbook, 
which  fell  on  the  carpet. 

Mrs.  Merton  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  Why,  that  is  the  very  pocketbook !  "  she  said. 

Luke  stooped  and  picked  it  up,  with  an  expression  of 
bewilderment  on  his  face. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,"  he  said.  "  I  never  saw  that 
pocketbook  before  in  my  life." 

"  Please  hand  it  to  me." 

Luke  did  so. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  identical  pocketbook,"  said  the  old 
lady. 

"  And  it  came  from  my  pocket?  " 

"  Yes." 


134  Harold's  Plot  Fails 

"  Is  there  any  money  in  it,  Mrs.  Merton." 

Mrs.  Merton  opened  it,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  That  has  been  taken  out,"  she  answered. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  think  I  took  the  money,"  said  Luke, 
with  a  troubled  look. 

"  I  know  you  did  not.  It  was  taken  while  we  were  out 
together  yesterday.  The  last  thing  before  I  left  the  house 
I  locked  the  drawer,  and  the  pocketbook  with  the  money 
inside  was  there.     When  I  returned  it  was  gone." 

"  That  is  very  mysterious.  I  don't  understand  how 
the  pocketbook  came  in  my  pocket." 

"  Someone  must  have  put  it  there  who  wished  you  to 
be  suspected  of  the  theft." 

"  Yes,"  said  Luke,  eagerly.     "  I  see." 

Then  he  stopped  suddenly,  for  what  he  was  about  to 
say  would  throw  suspicion  upon  Harold. 

"Well,  goon!" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ought  to  speak.  It  might  throw 
suspicion  on  an  innocent  person." 

"  Speak!  It  is  due  to  me.  I  will  juage  on  that  point. 
Who  has  had  the  chance  of  putting  the  wallet  into  your 
pocket  ?  " 

"  I  will  speak  if  you  insist  upon  it,  Mrs.  Merton,"  said 
Luke,  reluctantly.  "  A  few  minutes  since  I  met  Harold 
on  the  street.  We  were  bound  in  opposite  directions.  He 
surprised  me  by  stopping  me,  and  addressing  me  quite 
cordially.  We  stood  talking  together  two  or  three 
minutes." 

"  Did  he  have  an  opportunity  of  putting  the  wallet  in 
your  pocket.?  " 

"  He  might  have  done  so,  but  I  was  not  conscious  of  it." 

"  Let  me  think !  "  said  the  old  lady,  slowly.  "  Harold 
knew  where  I  kept  my  money,  for  I  opened  the  drawer  in 
his  presence  the  other  day,  and  he  sdw  me  take  a  bill 
from  the  pocketbook.  I  did  not  think  him  capable  of 
robbing  me." 

"Perhaps  he  did  not,"  said  Luke.  "It  may  be  ex- 
plained in  some  other  way." 

"  Can  you  think  of  any  other  way  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady. 


Harold's  Plot  Fails  135 

**  Suppose  a  servant  had  taken  the  m6ney,  and  left 
the  pocketbook  someWhere  where  Harold  found  it " 

"  Even  in  that  case,  why  should  he  put  it  in  your 
pocket?  " 

x"  He  does  not  like  me.     He  might  wish  to  throw  sus- 
picion upon  me." 

**  That  would  be  very  mean." 

"  I  think  it  would,  but  still  he  might  not  be  a  thief." 

"  I  would  sooner  excuse  a  thief.  It  is  certainly  dis- 
reputable to  steal,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  mean  or  con- 
temptible. Trying  to  throw  suspicion  on  an  innocent  per- 
son would  be  both." 

Luke  remained  silent,  for  nothing  occurred  to  him  to 
say.  He  did  not  wish  to  add  to  Mrs.  Merton's  resentment 
against  Harold. 

After  a  moment's  thought  the  old  lady  continued: 
"  Leave  the  pocketbook  with  me,  and  say  nothing  about 
what  has  happened  till  I  give  you  leave." 

"  Very  well." 

Mrs.  Merton  took  the  pocketbook,  replaced  it  in  the 
drawer,  and  carefully  locked  it. 

"  Someone  must  have  a  key  that  will  open  this  drawer," 
she  said.     "  I  should  like  to  know  who  it  is." 

"  Do  you  think  anyone  will  open  it  again  ?  "  asked  Luke. 

"  No ;  it  will  be  supposed  that  I  will  no  longer  keep 
money  there.  I  think,  however,  I  will  sooner  or  later  find 
out  who  opened  it." 

"  I  hope  it  won't  prove  to  be  Harold." 

"  I  hope  so,  too.  I  would  not  like  to  think  so  near  a 
relative  a  thief.  Well,  Luke,  I  won't  detain  you  here  any 
longer.    You  may  come  to-morrow,  as  usual." 

"  It  is  lucky  Mrs.  Merton  has  confidence  in  me," 
thought  Luke.  "  Otherwise  she  might  have  supposed  me 
to  be  the  thief.  What  a  mean  fellow  Harold  Tracy  is, 
lo  try  to  have  an  innocent  boy  suspected  of  such  a  crime." 

As  he  was  going  out  of  the  front  door,  Mrs.  Tracy 
entered. 

She  cast  a  withering  glance  at  Luke. 

"  Have  you  seen  my  aunt  this  morning?  "  she  asked. 


136  Harold's  Plot  Fails 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  I  wonder  you  had  the  face  to  stand  in  her  presence." 

It  must  be  said,  in  justification  of  Mrs.  Tracy,  that 
she  really  believed  that  Luke  had  stolen  Mrs.  Merton's 
money. 

"  I  know  of  no  reason  why  I  should  not,"  said  Luke, 
calmly.  "  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  explain  what  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  You  know  well  enough,"  retorted  Mrs.  Tracy,  nod- 
ding her  head  venomously. 

"  Mrs.  Merton  appears  to  be  well  satisfied  with  me," 
said  Luke,  quietly.  "  When  she  is  not,  she  wiU  tell  me  so, 
and  I  shall  never  come  again." 

"  You  are  the  most  brazen  boy  I  know  of.  Why  it  is 
that  my  aunt  is  so  infatuated  with  you,  I  can't  for  my 
part,  pretend  to  understand." 

"  If  you  win  allow  me,  I  will  bid  you  good-morning," 
said  Luke,  with  quiet  dignity. 

Mrs.  Tracy  did  not  reply,  and  Luke  left  the  house. 

"  If  I  ever  hated  and  despised  a  boy,  it  is  that  one ! " 
said  Mrs.  Tracy  to  herself  as  she  went  upstairs  to  re- 
move her  street  dress.  "  I  wish  I  could  strip  the  mask 
from  him,  and  get  aunt  to  see  him  in  his  real  character. 
He  is  a  sly,  artful  young  adventurer.  All,  Felicie,  come 
and  assist  me.  By  the  way,  I  want  you  to  watch  that 
boy  who  has  just  gone  out.''  " 

"Luke  Walton?" 

"  Yes ;  of  course  you  have  heard  of  my  aimt's  loss.  I 
suspect  that  this  Luke  Walton  is  the  thief." 

"  Is  it  possible,  madam .f*    Have  you  any  evidence.?  " 

"  No ;  but  we  may  find  some.    What  do  you  think.''  " 

"  I  haven't  thought  much  about  the  matter.  It  seems 
to  me  very  mysterious." 

When  Felicie  left  the  presence  of  her  mistress  she  smiled 
curiously. 

"  What  would  Madam  Tracy  say  if  she  knew  it  was 
her  own  son  ?  "  she  soliloquized.  "  He  is  a  young  cur,  but 
she  thinks  him  an  angel." 


Harold    Makes  a  Purchase  137 


CHAPTER    XXXIV 

HASOIiD    MAKES    A    PTIftCHASE 

Haeold  had  been  compelled  to  give  up  half  his  money, 
but  he  still  had  thirty  dollars  left.  How  should  he  invest 
it?  That  was  the  problem  that  occupied  his  thoughts. 
Thus  far  he  had  not  derived  so  much  satisfaction  from 
the  possession  of  the  money  as  he  had  anticipated.  One 
thing,  at  any  rate,  he  resolved.  He  would  not  spend  it 
upon  others,  but  wholly  upon  himself. 

He  stepped  into  a  billiard  saloon  to  enjoy  his  favorite 
pastime.  In  the  absence  of  any  companion  he  played 
a  game  with  a  man  employed  in  the  establishment,  and, 
naturally,  got  beaten,  though  he  was  given  odds.  At 
the  end  of  an  hour  he  owed  sixty  cents,  and  decided  not 
to  continue. 

"  You  play  too  well  for  me,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  dis- 
appointment. 

"  You  had  bad  luck,"  answered  his  opponent,  sooth- 
ingly.    "  However,  I  can  more  than  make  it  up  to  you." 

"  How  ?  "   inquired  Harold,  becoming  interested. 

"  A  friend  of  mine  has  pawned  his  watch  for  fifteen 
dollars.  It  is  a  valuable  gold  watch — cost  seventy-five. 
He  could  have  got  more  on  it,  but  expected  to  redeem  it. 
He  has  been  in  bad  luck,  and  finds  it  no  use.  He  has 
put  the  ticket  in  my  hands,  and  is  willing  to  sell  it  for 
ten  dollars.  That  will  only  make  the  watch  cost  twenty- 
five.     It's  a  big  bargain  for  somebody." 

Harold  was  much  interested.  He  had  always  wanted 
a  gold  watch,  and  had  dropped  more  than  one  hint  to  that 
effect  within  the  hearing  of  Aunt  Eliza,  but  the  old  lady 
had  always  said :  "  When  you  are  eighteen,  it  will  be 
time  enough  to  think  of  a  gold  watch.  Till  then,  your 
silver  watch  will  do." 

Harold  took  a  different  view  of  the  matter,  and  his  de- 
sire for  a  gold  watch  had  greatly  increased  since  a  school 
friend  about  his  own  age  had  one.    For  this  reason  he  was 


138  Harold    Makes  a  Purchase 

considerably  excited  by  the  chance  that  seemed  to  present 
itself. 

"  You  are  sure  the  watch  is  a  valuable  one  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  seen  it  myself." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  buy  the  ticket  yourself?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  money.  If  I  had,  I  wouldn't  let  any- 
body else  have  it." 

"  Let  me  see  the  ticket." 

The  other  produced  it  from  his  vest  pocket,  but,  of 
course,  this  threw  no  light  upon  the  quality  of  the 
watch. 

"  I  can  secure  the  watch,  and  have  nearly  five  dollars 
left,"  thought  Harold.  "  It  is  surely  worth  double  the 
price  it  will  cost  me,  and  then  I  shall  have  something  to 
show  for  my  money." 

On  the  other  hand,  his  possession  of  the  watch  would 
excite  surprise  at  home,  and  he  would  be  called  upon  to  ex- 
plain how  he  obtained  it.  This,  however,  did  not  trouble 
Harold. 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  take  it,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"  You  can't  do  any  better.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  hate  to 
let  it  go,  but  I  don't  see  any  prospect  of  my  being  able 
to  get  it  out  myself,  and  my  friend  needs  the  money." 

Harold  hesitated  a  moment,  then  yielded  to  the  induce- 
ment offered. 

"  Give  me  the  ticket,"  he  said.     "  Here  is  the  money." 

As  he  spoke,  he  produced  a  ten-dollar  bill.  In  return, 
the  ticket  was  handed  to  him. 

The  pawnbroker,  whose  name  was  found  on  the  ticket, 
was  located  less  than  fifteen  minutes'  walk  from  the  billiard 
saloon.  Harold,  eager  to  secure  the  watch,  went  directly 
there. 

"  Well,  yoxmg  man,  what  can  I  do  for  you.''  "  asked  a 
small  man,  with  wrinkled  face  and  blinking  eyes. 

"  I  want  to  redeem  my  watch.     Here  is  the  ticket.'* 

The  old  man  glanced  at  the  ticket,  then  went  to  a  safe, 
and  took  out  the  watch.  Here  were  kept  the  articles  of 
small  bulk  and  large  value. 

Harold  took  out  fifteen  dollars  which  he  had  put  in 


Harold    Makes  a  Purchase  139 

his  vest  pocket  for  the  purpose,  and  tendered  them  to 
the  pawnbroker. 

"  I  want  a  dollar  and  a  half  more,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  What  for?  "  asked  Harold,  in  surprise. 

"  One  month's  interest.  You  don't  think  I  do  business 
for  nothing,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Isn't  that  high,'' "  asked  Harold,  and  not  without 
reason. 

"  It's  our  regular  charge,  young  man.  Ten  per  cent  a 
month — that's  what  w6  all  charge." 

This  statement  was  correct.  Though  the  New  York 
pawnbroker  is  allowed  to  charge  but  three  per  cent  a 
month,  his  Chicago  associate  charges  more  than  three 
times  as  much. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  comply  with  the  terms 
demanded,  and  Harold  reluctantly  handed  out  the  extra 
sum. 

"  You  ought  to  have  a  watch  chain,  my  friend,"  said 
the  pawnbroker. 

"  I  should  like  one,  but  I  cannot  afford  it." 

"  I  can  give  you  a  superior  article — rolled  gold — for 
a  dollar." 

"  Let  me  see  it !  " 

The  chain  was  displayed.  It  looked  very  well ;  and  cer- 
tainly set  off  the  watch  to  better  advantage. 

Harold  paid  down  the  dollar,  and  went  out  of  the  pawn- 
broker's with  a  gold  watch,  and  chain  of  the  same  color, 
with  only  two  dollars  left  of  his  ill-gotten  money.  This 
was  somewhat  inconvenient,  but  he  rejoiced  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  watch  and  chain. 

"  Now  Ralph  Kennedy  can't  crow  over  me,"  he  Solilo- 
quized.    "  I've  got  a  gold  watch  as  well  as  he." 

As  he  left  the  pawnbroker's,  he  did  not  observe  a  famil- 
iar face  and  figure  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  It 
was  Warner  Powell,  his  mother's  brother,  who  recognized, 
with  no  little  surprise,  his  nephew,  coming  from  such  a 
place. 

"  What  on  earth  has  carried  Harold  to  a  pawn- 
broker's ?  "  he  asked  himself. 


14b  Harold    Makes  a  Purchase 

Then  he  caught  sight  of  the  watch  chain,  and  got  a 
view  of  the  watch,  as  Harold  drew  it  out  ostentatiously 
to  view  his  new  acquisition. 

"  There  is  some  mystery  here,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
must  investigate." 

He  waited  till  Harold  was  at  a  safe  distance,  then 
crossed  the  street,  and  entered  the  pawnbroker's. 

"  There  was  a  boy  just  went  out  of  here,"  he  said  to  the 
old  man. 

"  Suppose  there  was,"  returned  the  pawnbroker,  sus- 
piciously. 

"  What  was  he  doing  here?  '* 

"  Is  that  any  of  your  business  ?  " 

"  My  friend,  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  and  no 
complaint  to  make  against  you,  but  the  boy  is  my  nephew, 
and  I  want  to  know  whether  he  got  a  watch  and  chain 
here." 

"  Yes ;  he  presented  a  ticket,  and  I  gave  him  the  watch.*' 

"  Is  it  one  he  pawned  himself?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  had  the  ticket.  I  can't  remem- 
ber everybody  that  deals  with  me." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  how  much  the  watch  and  chain  were 
pawned  for  ?  " 

"  The  watch  was  pawned  for  fifteen  dollars.  I  sold 
him  the  chain  for  a  dollar." 

"  All  right.  Thank  you." 

"It's   all  right?" 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned.  How  long  had  the 
watch  been  in  ?  " 

"  For  three  weeks." 

Warner  Powell  left  the  shop,  after  obtaining  all  the 
information  he  required. 

"  It  is  Harold  who  robbed  Aunt  Eliza,"  he  said  to 
himself-  "  I  begin  to  think  my  precious  nephew  is  a 
rogue." 

Meanwhile,  Harold,  eager  to  ascertain  the  value  of  his 
watch,  stepped  into  a  jeweler's. 

'*  Can  you  tell  me  the  value  of  this  watch?  "  he  in- 
quired. 


A  Skillful  Invention  141 

The  jeweler  opened  It,  and  after  a  brief  examination, 
said :  "  When  new  it  probably  cost  thirty-five  dollars/' 

Harold's  countenance  fell. 

"  I  was  told  that  it  was  a  seventy-five  dollar  watch,'* 
he  said. 

"  Then  you  were  cheated." 

"  But  how  can  such  a  large  watch  be  afforded  for 
thirty-five  dollars  ?  " 

"  It  is  low-grade  gold,  not  over  ten  carats,  and  the 
works  are  cheap.     Yet,  it'll  keep  fair  time." 

Harold  was  very  much  disappointed. 

CHAPTER    XXXV 

A    SKILLFUL    INVENTION 

When  he  came  to  think  it  over,  Harold  gradually  re- 
covered his  complacence.  It  was  a  gold  watch,  after  all, 
and  no  one  would  know  that  the  gold  was  low  grade.  He 
met  one  or  two  acquaintances,  who  immediately  took  no- 
tice of  the  chain  and  asked  to  see  the  watch.  They  com- 
plimented him  on  it,  and  this  gave  him  satisfaction. 

When  he  reached  home,  he  went  directly  upstairs  to 
his  room,  and  only  came  down  when  he  heard  the  supper 
bell. 

As  he  entered  the  dining  room  his  mother  was  the  first 
to  notice  the  watch  chain. 

"Have  you  been  buying  a  watch  chain,  Harold.?  "  she 
asked. 

"  I  have  something  besides,"  said  Harold,  and  he  pro- 
duced the  watch. 

Mrs.  Tracy  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and 
Mrs.  Merton  and  Warner  exchanged  significant  glances. 

"  How  came  you  by  the  watch  and  chain  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Tracy,  uneasily. 

**  They  were  given  to  me,"  answered  Harold. 

**  But  that  is  very  strange.  Aunt  Eliza,  you  have  not 
given  Harold  a  watch,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  Louisa.  I  think  a  silver  watch  is  good  enough 
for  a  boy  of  his  age." 

10  KK 


142  A  Skillful  Invention 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  me,  Louisa  ? "  said  Warner, 
smiling. 

"  I  don't  imagine  your  circumstances  will  admit  of  such 
a  gift." 

"  You  are  right.  I  wish  they  did.  Harold,  we  are  all 
anxious  to  know  the  name  of  the  benevolent  individual  who 
has  made  you  such  a  handsome  present.  If  you  think 
he  has  any  more  to  spare,  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would 
introduce  me." 

"  I  will  explain,"  said  Harold,  glibly.  "  I  was  walk- 
ing along  Dearborn  Street  about  two  o'clock,  when  I  saw 
a  gentleman  a  little  in  advance  of  me.  He  had  come  from 
the  Commercial  Bank,  I  judge,  for  it  was  not  far  from 
there  I  came  across  him.  By  some  carelessness  he 
twitched  a  wallet  stuffed  with  notes  from  his  pocket.  A 
rough-looking  fellow  sprang  to  get  it,  but  I  was  too  quick 
for  him.  I  picked  it  up,  and  hurrying  forward,  handed 
it  to  the  gentleman.    He  seemed  surprised  and  pleased. 

"  '  My  boy,'  he  said,  '  you  have  done  me  a  great  serv- 
ice. That  wallet  contained  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  I 
should  have  lost  it  but  for  you.  Accept  this  watch  and 
chain  as  a  mark  of  my  deep  gratitude.' 

"  With  that,  he  took  the  watch  from  his  pocket,  and 
handed  it  to  me.  I  was  not  sure  whether  I  ought  to  take 
it,  but  I  have  long  wanted  a  gold  watch,  and  he  seemed 
well  able  to  aiford  the  gift,  so  I  took  it." 

Mrs.  Tracy  never  thought  of  doubting  this  plausible 
story. 

"  Harold,"  she  said,  "  I  am  proud  of  you.  I  think  there 
was  no  objection  to  accepting  the  watch.  What  do  you 
say,  Aunt  EHza?  " 

"  Let  me  look  at  the  watch,  Harold,"  said  the  old  lady, 
not  replying  to  her  niece's  question. 

Harold  passed  it  over  complacently.  He  rather 
plumed  himself  on  the  ingenious  story  he  had  invented. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Warner.?  "  asked  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton,  passing  it  to  her  nephew. 

"  It  is  rather  a  cheap  watch  for  a  rich  man  to  carry," 
answered  Warner,  taking  it  in  his  hand  and  opening  it. 


A  Skillful  Invention  143 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  quite  a  handsome  watch,"  Said  Mrs. 
Tracy. 

*'  Yes,  it  is  large  and  showy,  but  it  is  low-grade  gold." 

**  Of  course,  I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  said 
Harold.  "  At  any  rate,  it  is  gold  and  good  enough  for 
me." 

"  No  doubt  of  that,"  said  the  old  lady,  dryly. 

**  Rich  men  don't  always  carry  expensive  watches,"  said 
Mrs.  Tracy.     "  They  are  often  plain  in  their  tastes." 

*'  This  watch  is  rather  showy,"  said  Warner.  "  It  can't 
be  called  plain." 

"  At  any  rate,  Harold  has  reason  to  be  satisfied.  I  am 
glad  he  obtained  the  watch  in  so  creditable  a  manner.  If 
it  had  been  your  protege.  Aunt  Eliza,  I  suspect  he  would 
have  kept  the  money," 

"  I  don't  think  so,  Louisa,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  quietly. 
**  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  Luke's  honesty." 

'*  In  spite  of  your  lost  pocketbook?  " 

*'  Yes ;  there  is  nothing  to  connect  Luke  with  that." 

Harold  thought  he  ought  to  get  the  advantage  of  the 
trick  played  upon  Luke  in  the  morning. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  say  anything,"  he  said, 
hesitating,  "  but  I  met  Luke  this  morning,  and  if  I  am  not 
very  much  mistaken,  I  saw  in  his  pocket  a  wallet  that 
looked  very  much  like  aunt's.  You  know  he  wears  a  sack 
coat,  and  has  a  pocket  on  each  side." 

Again  Mrs.  Merton  and  Warner  exchanged  glances. 

"  This  is  important ! "  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  in  excitement. 
"  Did  you  speak  to  him  on  the  subject?  " 

"  No." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  thought  he  might  be  innocent,  and  I  didn't  want  to 
bring  a  false  charge  against  him." 

"  You  are  very  considerate,"  said  Mrs.  Merton. 

"  That  seems  quite  conclusive.  Aunt  Miza,"  said  Mrs.. 
Tracy,  triumphantly.  "  I  am  sure  Warner  will  agree 
with  me." 

"  As  to  that,  Louisa,"  said  her  brother,  "  Harold  is  not 
certain  it  was  aunt's  lost  pocketbook." 


144  ^  Skillful  Invention 


"  But  he  thinks  it  was." 
*'  Yes,  I  think  it  was — - 


"  For  my  own  part,  I  have  no  doubt  on  the  subject," 
said  Mrs.  Tracy,  in  a  positive  tone.  "  He  is  the  person 
most  hkely  to  take  the  money,  and  this  makes  less  proof 
needful." 

"  But,  suppose,  after  all,  he  is  innocent,"  suggested 
iWarner. 

"  You  seem  to  take  the  boy's  side,  Warner.  I  am  sur- 
prised at  you." 

"  I  want  him  to  have  a  fair  chance,  that  is  all.  I  must 
say  that  I  have  been  favorably  impressed  by  what  I  have 
seen  of  the  boy." 

"  At  any  rate,  I  think  Aunt  Eliza  ought  to  question 
him  sternly,  not  accepting  any  evasion  or  equivocation. 
He  has  been  guilty  of  base  ingratitude." 

"  Supposing  him  to  be  guilty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course." 

"  I  intend  to  investigate  the  matter,"  said  the  old  lady. 
*'  What  do  you  think,  Harold.'*  Do  you  think  it  probable 
that  Luke  opened  my  drawer,  and  took  out  the  pocket- 
book.?" 

"  It  looks  very  much  like  it,"  said  Harold. 

"  Certainly  it  does,"  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  with  emphasis. 

'*  Suppose  we  drop  the  conversation  for  the  time  being," 
suggested  the  old  lady.  "  Harold  has  not  wholly  grati- 
fied our  curiosity  as  to  the  watch  and  chain.  Do  you 
know,  Harold,  who  the  gentleman  is  to  whom  you  ren- 
dered such  an  important  service  ?  " 

"  No,  Aunt  Eliza,  I  did  not  learn  his  name." 

"What  was  his  appearance .f*    Describe  him." 

"  He  was  a  tall  man,"  answered  Harold,  in  a  tone  of 
hesitation. 

"  Was  he  an  old  or  a  young  man  ?  " 

"  He  was  an  old  man  with  gray  hair.  He  walked  very 
erect." 

"  Should  you  know  him  again,  if  you  saw  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so." 

**  Then,  perhaps,  we  may  have  an  opportunity  of  ascer- 


Warner  Powell  Starts  on  a  Journey      145 

taining  who  he  was.  My  broker  will  probably  know  him 
from  your  description." 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  find  out  who  he  is  ?  "  asked  Har- 
old, uneasily.  "  Don't  you  think  I  ought  to  keep  the 
watch.'* " 

"I  have  a  feeling  of  curiosity  on  the  subject.  As  to 
keeping  it,  I  don't  think  the  gentleman  will  be  likely  to 
reclaim  it." 

"  Of  course  not.  Why  should  he?  "  said  Mrs.  Tracy. 
"  He  gave  it  freely,  and  it  would  be  very  strange  if  he 
wished  it  back." 

Here  the  conversation  dropped,  much  to  Harold's  relief. 
Warner  accompanied  his  aunt  from  the  room. 

"  What  do  you  thing  of  Harold's  story,  Warner  ?  " 
asked  the  old  lady. 

"  It  is  very  ingenious." 

"But  not  true.?" 

"  No ;  he  got  the  watch  and  chain  from  a  pawnbroker. 
I  saw  him  come  out  of  the  shop,  and  going  in,  questioned 
the  pawnbroker.  He  must  have  got  the  ticket  somewhere." 

"  Then  it  seems  that  Harold  is  not  only  a  thief,  but  a 
liar." 

"  My  dear  aunt,  let  us  not  be  too  hard  upon  him.  This 
is  probably  his  first  offense:  I  feel  like  being  charitable, 
for  I  have  been  in  the  same  scrape." 

"  I  can  overlook  theft  more  easily  than  his  attempt  to 
blacken  the  reputation  of  Luke,"  said  Mrs.  Merton, 
sternly. 

CHAPTER    XXXVI 

WARNER    POWELL    STARTS    ON    A    JOURNEY 

Thanks  to  the  liberal  compensation  received  from  Mrs, 
Merton,  Luke  was  enabled  to  supply  his  mother  and  Ben- 
nie  with  all  the  comforts  they  required,  and  even  to  put 
by  two  dollars  a  week.  This  he  did  as  a  measure  of  pre- 
caution, for  he  did  not  know  how  long  the  engagement  at 
the  house  on  Prairie  Avenue  would  last.  If  he  were  forced 
to  fall  back  on  his  earnings  as  a  newsboy,  the  family  would 
fare  badly.     This  might  happen,  for  he  found  himself  no 


146     Warner  Powell  Starts  on  a  Journey 

nearer  securing  the  favor  of  Harold  and  his  mother.  The 
manner  of  the  latter  was  particularly  unpleasant  when 
they  met,  and  Harold  scarcely  deigned  to  speak  to  him. 
-On  the  other  hand,  Warner  Powell  showed  himself  very 
friendly.  He  often  took  the  opportunity  to  join  Luke 
when  he  was  leaving  the  house,  and  chat  pleasantly  with 
him.  Luke  enjoyed  his  companionship,  because  Warner 
was  able  to  tell  him  about  Australia  and  California,  with 
both  of  which  countries  Mrs.  Tracy's  brother  was  familiar. 

"Mother,"  said  Harold,  one  day,  "  Uncle  Warner  seems 
very  thick  with  that  newsboy.  I  have  several  times  seen 
them  walking  together." 

Mrs.  Tracy  frowned,  for  the  news  displeased  her. 

"  I  am  certainly  very  much  surprised.  I  should  think 
my  brother  might  find  a  more  congenial  and  suitable  com- 
panion than  Aunt  Eliza's  hired  boy.  I  will  speak  to  him 
about  it." 

She  accordingly  broached  the  subject  to  Warner  Powell, 
expressing  herself  with  emphasis. 

"  Listen,  Louisa,"  said  Warner,  "don't  you  think  I  am 
old  enough  to  choose  my  own  company  ?  " 

"  It  doesn't  seem  so,"  retorted  Mrs.  Tracy,  with  a  smile. 

"  At  any  rate,  I  don't  need  any  instructions  on  that 
point." 

"  As  my  guest,  you  certainly  ought  to  treat  me  with 
respect." 

"  So  I  do.  But  I  don't  feel  bound  to  let  you  regulate 
my  conduct." 

"  You  know  what  cause  I  have — ^we  both  have — to  dis- 
like this  boy." 

"  I  don't  dislike  him." 

"  Then  you  ought  to." 

"  He  is  in  Aunt  Eliza's  employment.  While  he  remains 
so,  I  shall  treat  him  with  cordiality." 

"  You  are  blind  as  a  mole ! "  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  pas- 
sionately. "  You  can't  see  that  he  is  trying  to  work  his 
way  into  aunt's  affections." 

"  I  think  he  has  done  so  already.  She  thinks  a  great 
deal  of  him." 


Warner  Powell  Starts  on  a  Journey     147 

"  When  you  find  her  remembering  him  in  her  will,  you 
may  come  over  to  my  opinion." 

"  She  is  quite  at  liberty  to  remember  him  in  her  will,  so 
far  as  I  am  concerned.  There  wiU  be  enough  for  us,  even 
if  she  does  leave  Luke  a  legacy." 

*'  I  see  you  are  incorrigible.  I  am  sorry  I  invited  you 
to  remain  in  my  house. 

"  I  was  under  the  impression  that  it  was  Aunt  Eliza's 
house.    You  are  claiming  too  much,  Louisa." 

Mrs.  Tracy  bit  her  lip,  and  was  compelled  to  give  up  her 
attempt  to  secure  her  brother's  allegiance.  She  contented 
herself  with  treating  him  with  formal  politeness,  abstain- 
ing froiii  all  show  of  cordiality.  This  was  carried  on  soi 
far  that  it  attracted  the  attention  of  Mrs.  Merton. 

"What  is  the  trouble  between  you  and  Louisa.'"'  she 
asked  one  day. 

Warner  laughed. 

*'  She  thinks  I  am  too  intimate  with  your  boy,  Luke.'* 

"  I  don't  imderstand." 

'*  I  often  walk  with  Luke  either  on  his  way  to  or  from 
the  house.  Harold  has  reported  this  to  his  mother,  and 
the  result  is  a  lecture  as  to  the  choice  of  proper  com- 
panions from  my  dignified  sister." 

Mrs.  Merton  smiled  kindly  on  her  nephew. 

**  Then  you  don't  propose  to  give  up  Luke  ?  "  she  said. 

"  No ;  I  like  the  boy.  He  is  worth  a  dozen  Harolds. 
Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  this,  for  Harold  is  my  nephew 
and  they  say  blood  is  thicker  than  water.  However, 
it  is  a  fact,  nevertheless,  that  I  like  Luke  the  better  of 
the  two." 

"  I  shall  not  blame  you  for  saying  that,  Warner,"  re- 
turned the  old  lady.  "  I  am  glad  that  one  of  the  family, 
at  least,  is  free  from  prejudice.  To  what  do  you  attribute 
Louisa's  dislike  of  Luke?  " 

*'  I  think,  aimt,  you  are  shrewd  enough  to  guess  the 
reason  without  appealing  to  me." 

"  Still,  I  would  like  to  hear  it  from  your  lips." 

**  In  plain  words,  then,  Louisa  is  afraid  you  will  remem- 
ber Luke  in  your  will." 


148     Warner  Powell  Starts  on  a  Journey 

"  She  doesn't  think  I  would  leave  everything  to  him,  does 
she?" 

"  She  objects  to  your  leaving  anything.  If  it  were  only 
five  hundred  dollars  she  would  grudge  it." 

"  Louisa  was  always  selfish,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  quietly. 
"  I  have  always  known  that.  She  is  not  wise,  however. 
She  does  not  understand  that  I  am  a  very  obstinate  old 
woman,  and  am  more  likely  to  take  my  own  way  if  op- 
posed." 

"  That's  right,  aunt !  You  are  entitled  to  have  your 
own  way,  and  I  for  one  am  the  last  to  wish  to  interfere 
with  you." 

"  You  will  not  fare  any  the  worse  for  that !  And  now, 
Warner,  tell  me  what  are  your  chances  of  employment?  " 

"  I  wished  to  speak  to  you  about  that,  aunt.  There  is 
a  gentleman  in  Milwaukee  who  has  a  branch  office  in  Chi- 
cago, and  I  understand  that  he  wants  someone  to  repre- 
sent him  here.  His  present  agent  is  about  to  resign  his 
position,  and  I  think  I  have  some  chance  of  obtaining  the 
place.  It  will  be  necessary  for  me,  however,  to  go  to  Mil- 
waukee to  see  him  in  person." 

"  Go,  then,  by  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Merton.  "  I  will 
defray  your  expenses." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  aimt.  You  know  that  I  have 
little  money  of  my  own.  But  there  is  another  thing  indis- 
pensable, and  that  I  am  afraid  you  would  not  be  willing  to 
do  for  me." 

"What  is  it,  Warner?" 

"  I  shall  have  charge  of  considerable  money  belonging 
to  my  employer,  and  I  learn  from  the  present  agent  that 
I  shall  have  to  get  someone  to  give  bonds  for  me  in  the 
sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars." 

"  Very  well !      I  am  willing  to  stand  your  security.'* 

Warner  looked  surprised  and  gratified. 

"  Knowing  how  dishonestly  I  have  acted  in  the  past?  " 
he  said. 

"  The  past  is  past.  You  are  a  different  man,  I  hope  and 
believe." 

"  Aunt  Eliza,  you  shall  never  regret  the  generous  con- 


Thomas  Browning's  Secret  149 

fidence  you  are  willing  to  repose  in  me.  It  is  likely  to 
open  for  me  a  new  career,  and  to  make  a  new  man  of  me." 

"That  is  my  desire,  Warner.  Let  me  add  that  I  am 
only  following  your  own  example.  You  have  refused  to 
believe  evil  of  Luke,  unlike  your  sister,  and  have  not  been 
troubled  by  the  kindness  I  have  shown  him.  This  is  some- 
thing I  remember  to  your  credit." 

"  Thank  you,  aunt.  If  you  have  been  able  to  discover 
anything  creditable  in  me,  I  am  all  the  more  pleased." 

"  How  much  will  this  position  pay  you,  supposing  you 
get  it.?  " 

"  Two  thousand  dollars  a  year.  To  me  that  will  be  a 
competence.  I  shall  be  able  to  save  one-half,  for  I  have 
given  up  my  former  expensive  tastes,  and  am  eager  to 
settle  down  to  a  steady  and  methodical  business  life." 

"  When  do  you  want  to  go  to  Milwaukee,  Warner  ?  " 

"  I  should  Hke  to  go  at  once." 

"  Here  is  some  money  to  defray  your  expenses." 

Mrs.  Merton  opened  her  table  drawer,  and  took  out  a 
roll  of  bills  amounting  to  fifty  dollars. 

"  I  wish  you  good  luck !  "  she  said. 

"  Thank  you,  aunt !  I  shall  take  the  afternoon  train  to 
Milwaukee,  and  sleep  there  to-night." 

Warner  Powell  hastened  to  catch  the  train,  and,  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  landed,  with  a  large  number  of 
fellow  passengers,  in  the  metropolis  of  Wisconsin. 

CHAPTER    XXXVII 

THOMAS    browning's    SECEET 

Warner  Powell  had  learned  wisdom  and  prudence 
with  his  increasing  years,  and,  instead  of  inquiring  for  the 
best  hotel,  was  content  to  put  up  at  a  humbler  hostelry, 
where  he  would  be  comfortable.  He  made  the  acquaintance 
on  the  cars  of  a  New  York  drummer,  with  whom  he  became 
quite  sociable. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  been  in  Milwaukee  often,"  said 
Warner. 


I  JO  Thomas  Browning's  Secret 

"  I  go  there  once  a  year — sometimes  twice." 

"  Where  do  you  stay  ?  " 

"  At  the  Prairie  Hotel.  It  is  a  comfortable  house-^ 
two  dollars  a  day." 

"  Just  what  I  want.    I  will  go  there." 

So,  at  quarter-past  six,  Warner  Powell  found  himself  in 
the  office  of  the  hotel.  He  was  assigned  a  room  on  the 
third  floor. 

After  making  his  toilet,  he  went  down  to  supper.  At 
the  table  with  him  were  two  gentlemen  who,  from  their 
conversation,  appeared  to  be  residents  of  the  city.  They 
were  discussing  the  coming  miuiicipal  election. 

"  I  tell  you.  Browning  will  be  our  mayor,"  said  one. 
*'  His  reputation  as  a  philanthropist  will  elect  him." 

"  I  never  took  much  stock  in  his  claims  on  that  score." 

"  He  belongs  to  all  the  charitable  societies,  and  is  gener* 
ally  an  officer." 

"  That  may  be;  how  much  does  he  give  himself."^  " 

"  I  don't  know.    I  suppose  he  is  a  liberal  subscriber." 

"  He  wants  to  give  that  impression,  but  the  man  is  as 
selfish  as  the  average.  He  is  said  to  be  a  hard  landlord, 
and  his  tenants  get  very  few  favors." 

"  I  am  surprised  to  hear  that." 

"  He  is  trading  on  his  philanthropy.  It  would  be  inter- 
esting to  learn  where  his  wealth  came  from.  I  should  not 
be  surprised  if  he  were  more  smart  than  honest." 

Warner  Powell  found  himself  getting  interested  in  this 
Browning.  Was  he  really  a  good  man,  who  was  unjustly 
criticised,  or  was  he  a  sham  philanthropist,  as  charged.'' 

"  After  all,  it  doesn't  concern  me,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  The  good  people  of  Milwaukee  may  choose  whom  they 
please  for  mayor  so  far  as  I  am  concerned." 

After  supper  Warner  stepped  up  to  the  cigar  stand  to 
buy  a  cigar.  This,  as  the  reader  will  remember,  was  kept 
by  Jack  King,  an  old  Cahfornia  acquaintance  of  Thomas 
Browning,  whose  first  appearance  in  our  story  was  in  the 
character  of  a  tramp  and  would-be  burglar. 

"Is  business  good.''"  asked  Warner,  pleasantly. 

"  It  is  fair ;  but  it  seems  slow  to  a  man  like  myself,  who 


Thomas  Browning's  Secret  151 

has  made  a  hundred  dollars  a  day  at  the  mines  in  Cali- 
fornia." 

"  I  have  been  in  California  myself,"  said  Powell,  "  but 
it  was  recently,  and  no  such  sums  were  to  be  made  in  my 
time." 

"  That  is  true.  It  didn't  last  with  me.  I  have  noticed 
that  even  in  the  flush  times  few  brought  much  money  away 
with  them,  no  matter  how  lucky  they  were." 

"  There  must  be  some  exceptions,  however.'* 

"  There  were.  We  have  a  notable  example  in  Mil- 
waukee." 

"  To  whom  do  you  refer?" 

"  To  Thomas  Browning,  the  man  who  is  up  for  mayor." 

Jack  King  laughed. 

"  I've  heard  a  lot  of  talk  about  that  man.  He's  very 
honest  and  very  worthy,  I  hear." 

"  They  call  him  so,"  he  answered. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  jealous  of  that  good  man,"  said 
(Warner,  smiling. 

"  I  may  be  jealous  of  his  success,  but  not  of  his  repu- 
tation or  his  moral  qualities." 

"  Then  you  don't  admire  him  as  much  as  the  public 
igenerally  ?  " 

"  No,  I  know  him  too  weU." 

"  He  is  really  rich,  is  he  not.?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is,  he  is  worth,  perhaps,  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars."' 

"  That  would  satisfy  me." 

"  Or  me.  But  I  doubt  whether  the  money  was  credit- 
ably gained." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  it.?  Were  you  an  ac- 
quaintance of  his  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  can  remember  him  when  he  was  only  a  rough 
miner.  I  never  heard  that  he  was  very  lucky,  but  he  man- 
aged to  take  considerable  money  East  with  him." 

Warner  eyed  Jack  King  attentively. 

"  You  suspect  something,"  he  said,  shrewdly. 

"  I  do.  There  was  one  of  our  acquaintances  who  had 
struck  it  rich,  and  accumulated  about  ten  thousand  dol- 


152  Thomas  Browning's  Secret 

lars.  Browning  was  thick  with  him,  and  I  always  sus- 
pected that  when  he  found  himself  on  his  deathbed,  he  in- 
^trusted  all  his  savings  to  Butler " 

"  I  thought  you  were  speaking  of  Browning?  " 

"  His  name  was  Butler  then.  He  has  changed  it  since. 
But,  as  I  was  saying,  I  think  he  intrusted  his  money  to 
Browning  to  take  home  to  his  family." 

"Well?" 

"  The  question  is,  did  Browning  fulfill  his  trust,  or  keep 
the  money  himself?  " 

"  That  would  come  out,  wouldn't  it  ?  The  family  would 
make  inquiries." 

"  They  did  not  know  that  the  dying  man  had  money. 
He  kept  it  to  himself,  for  he  wanted  to  go  home  and  give 
them  an  agreeable  surprise.  Butler  knew  this,  and,  I 
think,  he  took  advantage  of  it." 

"  That  was  contemptible.  But  can't  it  be  ascertained? 
Is  it  known  where  the  family  lives?    What  is  the  name?  " 

"  Walton." 

"  Walton !  "  repeated  Warner  Powell,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes ;  do  you  know  any  family  of  that  name  ?  " 

"  I  know  a  boy  in  Chicago  named  Luke  Walton.  He  is 
in  the  employ  of  my  aunt.  A  part  of  his  time  he  spends 
in  selling  papers." 

"  Mr.  Browning  told  me  that  Walton  only  left  a 
daughter,  and  that  the  family  had  gone  to  the  Eastern 
States." 

"  Would  he  be  likely  to  tell  you  the  truth — supposing 
he  had  really  kept  the  money  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not.  What  more  can  you  tell  me  about  this 
boy?" 

Powell's  face  lighted  up. 

"  I  remember  now,  he  told  me  that  his  father  died  in 
California." 

"Is  it  possible .?*"  said  Jack  King,  excited.  "I  begin 
to  think  I  am  on  the  right  track.  I  begin  to  think,  too, 
that  I  can  tell  where  Tom  Butler  got  his  first  start." 

"  And  now  he  poses  as  a  philanthropist  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


Thomas  Browning's  Secret  153 

**  And  is  nominated  for  major  ?  " 

"  Yes,  also." 

*'  How  are  your  relations  with  him  ?  " 

*'  They  should  be  friendly,  for  he  and  I  were  comrades 
in  earlier  days,  and  once  I  lent  him  money  when  he  needed 
it,  but  he  has  been  puffed  up  by  his  prosperity,  and  takes 
very  little  notice  of  me.  He  had  to  do  something  for  me 
when  I  first  came  to  Milwaukee,  but  it  was  because  he  was 
afraid  not  to." 

Meanwhile  Warner  Powell  was  searching  his  memory. 
Where  and  how  had  he  become  familiar  with  the  name 
of  Thomas  Browning?    At  last  it  came  to  him. 

"  Eureka !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  excitement. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?    I  don't  understand  French." 

Warner  smiled. 

"  It  isn't  French,"  he  said ;  "  but  Greek,  all  the  Greek 
I  know.  It  means  *  I  have  discovered ' — the  mystery  of 
your  old  acquaintance." 

"  Explain,  please ! "  jsaid  Jack  King,  his  interest  be- 
coming intense. 

"  I  have  a  friend  in  Chicago — Stephen  Webb,  a  nephew 
of  your  philanthropist — ^who  has  been  commissioned  by 
his  uncle  to  find  out  all  he  can  about  this  newsboy,  Luke 
Walton.  He  was  speculating  with  me  why  his  uncle  should 
be  so  interested  in  an  obscure  boy." 

"Had  his  uncle  told  him  nothing.?" 

"  No,  except  that  he  dropped  a  hint  about  knowing 
Luke's  father." 

"  This  Luke  and  his  family  are  poor,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  can  judge  that  from  his  employment.  He 
is  an  honest,  manly  boy,  however,  and  I  have  taken  a 
fancy  to  him.  I  hope  it  will  turn  out  as  you  say.  But 
nothing  can  be  proved.  This  Browning  will  probably  deny 
that  he  received  money  in  trust  from  the  dead  father." 

Jack  King's  countenance  fell. 

"  When  you  go  back  to  Chicago  talk  with  the  boy,  and 
find  out  whether  the  family  have  any  evidence  that  will 
support  their  claim.  Then  send  the  boy  on  to  me,  and  we 
will  see  what  can  be  done." 


154  Felicie  Proves  Troublesome 

"  I  accept  the  suggestion  with  pleasure.  But  I  wiU 
offer  an  amendment.  Let  us  write  the  boy  to  come  on  at 
once,  and  have  a  joint  consultation  in  his  interest." 


CHAPTER    XXXVin 

FELICIE    PROVES    TROUBLESOME 

We  must  return  to  Chicago  for  a  short  time  before  re- 
cording the  incidents  of  Luke's  visit  to  Milwaukee. 

Though  Harold  had  lost  nearly  half  of  his  money 
through  being  compelled  to  divide  with  Felicie,  he  was, 
upon  the  whole,  well  satisfied  with  the  way  in  which  he 
had  escaped  from  suspicion.  He  had  his  gold  watch,  and, 
as  far  as  he  knew,  the  story  which  he  had  told  about  it 
had  not  been  doubted.  But  something  happened  that  an- 
noyed and  alarmed  him. 

One  day,  when  there  was  no  one  else  in  the  house,  ex- 
cept the  servants,  Felicie  intercepted  him  as  he  was  going 
out. 

"  I  want  a  word  with  you.  Master  Harold,"  she  said. 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,  Felicie,"  replied  Harold,  who  had 
conceived  a  dislike  for  the  French  maid. 

"  Still,  I  think  you  can  spare  a  few  minutes,"  went 
on  Felicie,  smiling  in  an  unpleasant  manner. 

"  Well,  be  quick  about  it,"  said  Harold,  impatiently. 

"  I  have  a  sister  who  is  very  sick.  She  is  a  widow  with 
two  children,  and  her  means  are  very  small." 

"Goodness,  Felicie!  What  is  all  this  to  me?  Of 
course,  Fm  sorry  for  her,  but  I  don't  know  her." 

"  She  looks  to  me  to  help  her,"  continued  Fehcie. 

"  Well,  that's  all  right !  I  suppose  you  are  going  to, 
help  her." 

"  There  is  the  trouble,  Master  Harold.  I  have  no  mon- 
ey on  hand." 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  that  is  unlucky,  but  why  do  you  speak 
to  me  about  it?  " 

"  Because,"  and  here  Felicie's  eyes  glistened,  "  I  knoiv; 
you  obtained  some  money  recently  from  your  aunt." 


Felicie  Proves  Troublesome  155^ 

"  Hush !  "  said  Harold,  apprehensively. 

"  But  it's  true." 

"  And  it's  true  that  you  made  me  give  you  half  of  it." 

"  It  all  went  to  my  poor  sister,"  said  Felicie  theatri- 
cally. 

"  I  don't  see  what  I  have  to  do  with  that,"  said  Harold, 
not  without  reason. 

"  So  that  I  kept  none  for  myself.  Now  I  am  sure  you 
will  open  your  heart,  and  give  me  five  dollars  more." 

"  I  never  heard  such  cheek ! "  exclaimed  Harold,  in- 
dignantly. "  You've  got  half,  and  are  not  satisfied  with 
that." 

"  But  think  of  my  poor  sister ! "  said  Felicie,  putting 
her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  in  which  there  were  no  tears. 

"  Think  of  me ! "  exclaimed  Harold,  angrily. 

"  Then  you  won't  give  me  the  trifle  I  ask?  " 

"  Trifle  ?    I  haven't  got  it." 

"Where  is  it  gone.?" 

*'  Gone  to  buy  this  watch.  That  took  nearly  the  whole 
of  it." 

"It  is  indeed  so.?  I  thought  you  received  it  as  a  re- 
ward for  picking  up  a  pocketbook." 

"  I  had  to  tell  my  aunt  something.  Otherwise  they 
would  ask  me  embarrassing  questions." 

"  Ah,  quelle  mvention!  "  exclaimed  Felicie,  playfully. 
"  And  you  really  have  none  of  the  money  left  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Then  there  is  only  one  way." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  To  open  the  drawer  again." 

"  Are  you  mad,  Fehcie?  I  should  surely  be  discovered. 
It  won't  do  to  try  it  a  second  time  when  my  aunt  is  on 
her  guard.  Besides,  very  likely  she  don't  keep  her  money 
there  now." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  does." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"  I  was  in  the  room  yesterday  when  she  opened  the 
drawer  to  take  out  money  to  pay  a  biU." 

"  She  must  be  foolish,  then." 


156  Felicie  Proves  Troublesome 

"  Ah,"  said  Felicie,  coolly,  "  she  thinks  lightning  won't 
strike  twice  in  the  same  place." 

"  Well,  it  won't." 

"  There  must  have  been  fifty  dollars  in  bills  in  the 
drawer,"  continued  Felicie,  insinuatingly. 

"  It  may  stay  there  for  all  me.  I  won't  go  to  the  drawer 
again." 

"  I  must  have  some  money,"  said  Felicie,  significantly. 

"  Then  go  and  tell  Aunt  Eliza,  and  she  may  give  you 
some." 

"  I  don't  think  your  Aunt  Eliza  likes  me,"  said  Felicie, 
frankly. 

"  Very  likely  not,"  said  Harold,  with  equal  candor. 

"  You  can  raise  some  money  on  your  watch.  Master 
Harold,"  suggested  Felicie. 

"How.?" 

"  At  the  pawnbroker's." 

"  WeU,  I  don't  mean  to." 

"No.?" 

"  No !  "  returned  Harold,  emphatically. 

"  Suppose  I  go  and  teU  Mrs.  Merton  who  took  her 
money  ?  " 

"  You  would  only  expose  yourself." 

"  I  did  not  take  it." 

"  You  made  me  divide  with  you." 

"  I  shall  deny  all  that.  Besides,  I  shall  teU  all  that  I 
saw — on  that  day." 

Harold  felt  troubled.  Felicie  might,  as  he  knew,  make 
trouble  for  him,  and  though  he  could  in  time  inform  against 
her,  that  would  not  make  matters  much  better  for  him. 
Probably  the  whole  story  would  come  out,  and  he  felt  sure 
that  the  French  maid  would  not  spare  him. 

A  lucky  thought  came  to  him. 

"  Felicie,"  he  said,  "  I  think  I  can  suggest  something 
that  will  help  you." 

"WeD,  what  is  it?" 

"  Go  to  my  aunt's  drawer  yourself.  You  have  plenty 
of  chance,  and  you  can  keep  all  the  money  you  find.  I 
■won't  ask  you  for  any  of  it." 


Luke  Walton's  Lettpr  157 

Felicle  eyed  him  sharply.  She  was  not  sure  but  he 
meant  to  trap  her. 

"  I  have  no  keys,"  she  said. 

"  You  can  use  the  same  bunch  I  have.    Here  they  are !  " 

FeUcie  paused  a  moment,  then  took  the  proffered  keys. 
After  all,  why  should  she  not  make  use  of  the  suggestion  ? 
It  would  be  thought  that  the  second  thief  was  the  same 
as  the  first. 

"  Can  I  rely  on  your  discretion,  Master  Harold  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  certainly.  I  am  not  very  likely  to  say  anything 
about  the  matter." 

"  True !  It  might  not  be  for  your  interest.  Good- 
morning,  Master  Harold,  I  won't  detain  you  any  longer." 

Harold  left  the  house  with  a  feeling  of  relief. 

"  I  hope  Felicie  will  be  caught ! "  he  said  to  himself. 
**  I  have  a  great  mind  to  give  Aimt  £Hza  a  hint." 

It  looked  as  if  the  generally  astute  Felicie  had  made 
a  mistake. 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

liUKE    WAIiTOu's    liETTER 

**  Heee  is  a  letter  for  you,  Luke ! "  said  Mrs.  Walton. 

Luke  took  it  in  his  hand,  and  regarded  it  curiously.  He 
was  not  in  the  habit  of  receiving  letters. 

"  It  is  postmarked  Milwaukee,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  know  anyone  in  Milwaukee?"  asked  his 
mother. 

"  No ;  or  stay,  it  must  be  from  Mr.  Powell,  a  brother 
of  Mrs.  Tracy." 

"  Probably  he  sends  a  message  to  his  sister." 

By  this  time  Luke  had  opened  the  following  letter, 
which  he  read  with  great  surprise  and  excitement: 

Dear  Luke:— Come  to  Milwaukee  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  join 
me  at  the  Prairie  Hotel.  I  write  in  your  own  interest.  There  is  a 
large  sum  due  to  your  father,  which  I  may  be  able  to  put  you  in  the 
way  of  collecting.    You  had  better  see  Aunt  Eliza,  and  ask  leave  <^ 

11  KK 


ir8  Luke  Walton's  Letter 

absence  for  a  day  or  two.     If  you  haven't  money  enough  to  come  on, 
let  her  know,  and  I  am  sure  she  will  advance  it  to  you. 

Your  friend, 

Warner  Powell. 

"What  can  it  mean.?"  asked  Mrs.  Walton,  to  whom 
Luke  read  the  letter. 

"  It  must  refer  to  the  ten  thousand  dollars  which  father 
sent  to  us  on  his  dying  bed." 

"  If  it  were  only  so ! "  said  the  widow,  clasping  her 
hands. 

"  At  any  rate,  I  shall  soon  find  out,  mother.  I  had  bet- 
ter take  the  letter  which  was  sent  us,  giving  us  the  first 
information  of  the  legacy." 

"  Very  well,  Luke !  I  don't  know  anything  about  busi- 
ness.    I  must  leave  the  matter  entirely  in  your  hands.  ^ 

"  I  will  go  at  once  to  Mrs.  Merton  and  ask  if  it  will 
inconvenience  her  if  I  go  away  for  a  couple  of  days." 

"  Do  so,  Luke !  She  is  a  kind  friend,  and  you  should 
do  nothing  without  her  permission." 

Luke    took   the    cars    for    Prairie    Avenue,    though    it 
was  afternoon,  and  he  had  been  there  once  already.     He 
was  shown  immediately  into  the  old  lady's  presence. 
Mrs.  Merton  saw  him  enter  with  surprise. 
"  Has  anything  happened,  Luke  "  she  asked. 
"  I  have  received  a  letter  from  your  nephew,  summon- 
ing me  to  Milwaukee." 

"  I  hope  he  is  not  in  any  scrape." 

"  No ;  it  is  a  very  friendly  letter,  written  in  my  interest. 
May  I  read  it  to  you.?  " 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  it." 

Mrs.  Merton  settled  herself  back  in  her  rocking-chair, 
and  listened  to  the  reading  of  the  letter. 

"  Do  you  know  what  this  refers  to,  Luke.?  "  she  asked. 
"Yes;   my    father    on   his    deathbed   in    California   in- 
trusted a  stranger  with  ten  thousand  dollars  to  bring  to 
my  mother.     He  kept  it  for  his  own  use,  and  it  was  only 
by  an  accident  that  we  heard  about  the  matter." 

"You  iifterest  me,  Luke.     What  was  the  accident?" 
•/        Luke  explaii"icd. 


Luke  Walton's  Letter  159 

« It  must  be  this  that  Mr.  Powell  refers  to,"  he  added. 
"  But  I  don't  see  how  my  nephew  should  have  anythmg 
to  do  with  it." 

"  There  is  a  man  in  Milwaukee  who  answers  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  stranger  to  whom  my  poor  father  intrusted  his 
money.  I  have  seen  him,  for  he  often  comes  to  Chicago. 
I  have  even  spoken  to  him." 

"  Have  you  ever  taxed  him  with  this  breach  of  trust?  " 
"  No,  for  he  bears  a  different  name.     He  is  Thomas 
Browning,  while  the  letter  mentions  Thomas  Butler." 
"  He  may  have  changed  his  name." 
"  I  was  stupid  not  to  think  of  that  before.     There  can 
hardly  be  two  men  so  singularly  alike.     I  have  come  to 
ask  you,  Mrs.  Merton,  if  you  can  spare  me  for  two  or 
three  days." 

"For  as  long  as  you  like,  Luke,"  caid  the  old  lady, 
promptly.  "  Have  you  any  money  for  your  traveling  ex- 
penses ?  " 

"  Yes,  thank  you." 

"  No  matter.  Here  are  twenty  dollars.  Money  never 
comes  amiss." 

"  You  are  always  kind  to  me,  Mrs.  Merton,"  said  Luke, 
gratefully. 

"  It  is  easy  to  be  kind  if  one  is  rich.  I  want  to  see 
that  man  punished.  Let  me  give  you  one  piece  of 
advice.  Be  on  your  guard  with  this  man!  He  is  not  to 
be  trusted." 

"  Thank  you !  I  am  sure  your  advice  is  good." 
"  I  Avish  you  good  luck,  Luke.  However  things  may 
turn  out,  there  is  one  thing  that  gratifies  me.  Warner 
is  showing  himself  your  friend.  I  have  looked  upon  him 
till  recently  as  a  black  sheep,  but  he  is  redeeming  himself 
rapidly  in  my  eyes.  I  shall  not  forget  his  kindness  to 
you." 

As  Luke  went  downstairs  he  met  Mrs.  Tracy. 
"  Here  again !  "  said  she,  coldly.     "  Did  my  aunt  send 
for  you  this  afternoon  ?  " 
"  No,  madam." 
"  Then  you  should  not  have  intruded.    You  are  young, 


i6o       Face  to  Face  With  the  Enemy 

but  jou  are  very  artful.  I  see  through  your  schemes,  you 
may  rest  assured." 

"  I  wished  to  show  Mrs,  Merton  a  letter  from  your 
brother,  now  in  Milwaukee,"  said  Luke. 

"  Oh,  that's  it,  is  it.'     Let  me  see  the  letter." 

"  I  must  refer  you  to  Mrs,  Merton." 

"  He  has  probably  sent  to  Aunt  Eliza  for  some  money," 
thought  Mrs.  Tracy.  "  He  and  the  boy  are  well 
matched." 

CHAPTER    XL 

FACE    TO    FACE    WITH    THE    ENEMY 

Thomas  Browning  sat  in  his  handsome  study.  In  a  com- 
placent frame  of  mind.  The  caucus  wao  to  be  held  in  the 
evening,  and  he  confidently  expected  the  nomination  for 
mayor.  It  was  the  post  he  had  coveted  for  a  long  time. 
There  were  other  honors  that  were  greater,  but  the  may- 
oralty would  perhaps  prove  a  stepping-stone  to  them. 
He  must  not  be  impatient.  He  was  only  in  middle  hfe, 
and  there  was  plenty  of  time. 

"  I  didn't  dream  this  when  I  was  a  penniless  miner  in 
Cahfornia,"  he  reflected,  gleefully.  "  Fortune  was  hard 
upon  me  then,  but  now  I  am  at  the  top  of  the  heap.  All 
my  OTVTi  good  management,  too.  Tom  Butler — ^no. 
Browning — is  no  fool,  if  I  do  say  it  myself." 

"  Someone  to  see  you,  Mr.  Browning,"  said  the  servant. 

"  Show  him  in !  "  replied  the  philanthropist. 

A  poorly  dressed  man  followed  the  maid  into  the  room. 

Mr.  Browning  frowned.  He  had  thought  it  might  be 
some  influential  member  of  his  party. 

"  T\Tiat  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked,  roughly. 

The  poor  man  stood  humbly  before  him,  nervously  press- 
ing the  hat  between  his  hands. 

"  I  am  one  of  your  tenants,  Mr.  Browning.  I  am  be- 
hindhand with  my  rent,  owing  to  sickness  in  the  family, 
and  I  have  been  ordered  out." 

"  And  very  properly,  too  !  "  said  Browning.  "  You 
can't  expect  me  to  let  you  stay  gratis." 


Face  to  Face  With  the  Enemy        i6i 

"  But  sir,  you  have  the  reputation  of  being  a  philan- 
thropist.    It  hardly  seems  the  character " 

"  I  do  not  call  myself  a  philanthropist — others  call  me 
so — and  perhaps  they  are  right.  I  help  the  poor  to  the 
extent  of  my  means,  but  even  a  philanthropist  expects 
his  honest  dues." 

"  Then  you  can  do  nothing  for  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  interfere  in  your 
case." 

The  poor  man  went  out  sorrowfully,  leaving  the  phil- 
anthropist in  an  irritable  mood.  Five  minutes  later  a 
second  visitor  was  announced. 

"  Who  is  it?  "  asked  Browning,  fearing  it  might  be  an- 
other tenant. 

"  It  is  a  boy,  sir." 

*'  With  a  message,  probably.     Show  him  up." 

But  Thomas  Browning  was  destined  to  be  surprised, 
when  in  the  manly-looking  youth  who  entered  he  recog- 
nized the  Chicago  newsboy  who  had  already  excited  his 
uneasiness. 

"  What  brings  you  here  ?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  startled 
tone. 

"  I  don't  know  if  you  remember  me,  Mr.  Browning," 
said  Luke,  quietly.  "  Luke  Walton  is  my  name,  sir,  and  I 
have  sold  you  papers  near  the  Sherman  House,  in  Chi- 
cago." 

"  I  thought  your  face  looked  familiar,"  said  Browning, 
assuming  an  indifferent  tone.  "  You  have  made  a  mis- 
take in  coming  to  Milwaukee.  You  cannot  do  as  well  here 
as  in  Chicago." 

"  I  have  no  t  come  in  search  of  a  place.  I  have  a  good 
one  at  home." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  some  object  in  coming  to  this 
city.?" 

"  Yes ;  I  came  to  see  you." 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  ought  to  feel  flattered,  but  I  can't 
do  anything  for  you.  I  have  some  reputation  in  charitable 
circles,  but  I  have  my  hands  full  here." 

"  I  have  not  come  to  ask  you  a  favor,  Mr.  Browning. 


1 62        Face  to  Face  With,  the  Enemy 

If  jou  will  allow  me,  I  will  ask  your  advice  in  a  matter 
of  importance  to  me." 

Browning  brightened  up.  He  was  always  ready  to  give 
advice. 

"  Go  on !  "  he  said. 

"  When  I  was  a  young  boy  my  father  went  to  Cali- 
fornia. He  left  my  mother,  my  brother,  and  myself 
very  poorly  provided  for,  but  he  hoped  to  earn  money  at 
the  mines.     A  year  passed,  and  we  heard  of  his  death." 

"  A  good  many  men  die  in  California,"  said  Browning, 
phlegmatically. 

"  We  could  not  learn  that  father  left  anj^thing,  and 
we  were  compelled  to  get  long  as  we  could.  Mother  ob- 
tained sewing  to  do  at  low  prices,  and  I  sold  papers." 

"  A  common  experience !  "  said  Browning,  coldly. 

"  About  three  m.onths  ago,"  continued  Luke,  "  we  were 
surprised  by  receiving  in  a  letter  from  a  stranger,  a  mes- 
sage from  my  father's  deathbed." 

Thoinas  Browning  started  and  turned  pale,  as  he  gazed 
intently  in  the  boy's  face. 

"  How  much  does  he  know.''  "  he  asked  himself,  appre- 
hensively. 

"  Go  on !  "  he  said,  slowly. 

"  In  this  letter  we  learned  for  the  first  time  that  fathei^ 
had  intrusted  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars  to  an 
acquaintance  to  be  brought  to  my  mother,  Tliis  man 
proved  false  and  kept  the  money." 

"  This  story  may  or  may  not  be  true,"  said  Browning, 
with  an  effort.    "  Was  the  man's  name  given .?  " 

"  Yes ;  his  name  was  "thomas  Butler." 

"  Indeed !     Have  you  ever  met  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Luke,  slowly.  "  I  will  read  his 
description  from  the  letter :  '  He  has  a  wart  on  the  upper 
part  of  his  right  cheek — a  mark  which  disfigures  and  mor- 
tifies him  exceedingly.  He  is  about  five  feet  ten  inches 
in  height,  with  a  dark  complexion  and  dark  hair,  a  little 
tinged  with  gray.' 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter,"  said  Browning,  hoarsely. 

He  took  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and,  moving  near  the 


Mr.  Browning  Comes  to  Terms       163 

grate  fire,  began  to  read  it.  Suddenly  the  paper  as  if  acci- 
dentally, slipped  from  his  fingers,  and  fell  upon  the  glowing 
coals — where  it  was  instantly  consumed. 

"  How  careless  I  am!  "  ejaculated  Browning,  but  there 
was  exultation  in  the  glance. 

CHAPTER    XLI 

MR.    BROWNING    COMES    TO    TERMS 

The  destruction  of  the  letter,  and  the  open  exultation 
of  the  man  who  had  in  intention  at  least  doubly  wronged 
him,  did  not  appear  to  dismay  Luke  Walton.  He  sat  quite 
cool  and  collected,  facing  Mr.  Browning. 

"Really,  I  don't  see  how  this  letter  happened  to  slip 
from  my  hand,"  continued  the  philanthropist.  "I  am 
afraid  you  consider  it  important." 

"  I  should  if  it  had  been  the  genuine  letter,"  said  Luke. 

"  What  "  gasped  Browning. 

"  It  was  only  a  copy,  as  you  will  be  glad  to  hear." 

"  Boy,  I  think  you  are  deceiving  me,"  said  Browning, 
sharply. 

"  Not  at  all!  I  left  the  genuine  letter  in  the  hands  of 
my  lawyer." 

"  Your  lawyer  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  have  put  this  matter  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Jor- 
dan, of  this  city." 

Mr.  Browning  looked  very  much  disturbed.  Mr.  Jor- 
dan was  a  well-known  and  eminent  attorney.  Moreover,  he 
was  opposed  in  poHtics  to  the  would-be  mayor.  If  his 
opponent  should  get  hold  of  this  discreditable  chapter  in 
his  past  history,  his  political  aspirations  might  as  well  be 
given  up.  Again  he  asked  himself,  "  How  much  of  the 
story  does  this  boy  know  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  employing  a  lawyer,"  he  said,  after  a  pause, 
"  I  don't  understand  why  you  came  to  me  for  advice." 

"  I  thought  you  might  be  interested  in  the  matter," 
said  Luke,  significantly. 

"Why  should  I  be  interested  in  your  affairs?    I  have 


164       Mr.  Browning  Comes  to  Terms 

so  many  things  to  think  of  that  really  I  can't  take  hold 
of  anything  new." 

"  I  will  tell  you,  sir.  You  are  the  man  who  received 
money  in  trust  from  my  dying  father.  I  look  to  you  to 
restore  it  with  interest." 

"  How  dare  you  insinuate  any  such  thing?  "  demanded 
BroAvning,  furiously.  "Do  you  mean  to  extort  money 
by  threats  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.     I  only  ask  for  justice," 

"  There  is  nothing  to  connect  me  with  the  matter.  Ac- 
cording to  your  letter  it  was  a  Thomas  Butler  who  re- 
ceived the  money  you  refer  to." 

"  True,  and  your  name  at  that  time  was  Thomas  But- 
ler." 

Mr,  Browning  turned  livid.  The  net  seemed  to  be  clos- 
ing about  him. 

"What  proof  have  you  of  this  ridiculous  assertion?" 
he  demanded. 

"  The  testimony  of  one  who  knew  you  then  and  now — 
Mr.  King,  who  keeps  a  cigar  stand  at  the  Prairie  Hotel." 

"  Ha !  traitor !  "  ej  aculated  Browning,  apostrophizing 
the  absent  King. 

"  This  is  a  conspiracy !  "  he  said.  "  King  has  put  you 
up  to  this.  He  is  a  discreditable  tramp  whom  I  befriended 
when  in  dire  need.     This  is  my  reward  for  it." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that,  Mr.  Browning.  Mr. 
King  is  ready  to  help  me  with  his  testimony.  My  lawyer 
has  advised  me  to  call  upon  you,  and  to  say  this :  If  you 
will  pay  over  the  ten  thousand  dollars  with  interest  I  will 
engage  in  my  mother's  name  to  keep  the  matter  from 
getting  before  the  public."  / 

"  And  if  I  don't  agree  to  this  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Jordan  is  instructed  to  bring  suit  against  you." 

Drops  of  perspiration  gathered  on  the  brow  of  Mr. 
Browning.  This  would  never  do.  The  suit,  even  if  unsuc- 
cessful, would  blast  his  reputation  as  a  philanthropist, 
and  his  prospects  as  a  politician. 

"  I  will  see  Mr,  Jordan,"  he  said, 

*'  Very  well,  sir.     Then  I  wish  you  good-moming.'* 


Conclusion  165 

Within  two  days  Thomas  Browning  had  paid  over  to 
the  lawyer  for  his  young  client  the  full  sum  demanded,  and 
Luke  left  Milwaukee  with  the  happy  consciousness  that  his 
mother  was  now  beyond  the  reach  of  poverty. 


CHAPTER    XLII 

CONCLUSION 

Felicie  reflected  over  Harold's  dishonest  suggestion, 
and  concluded  to  adopt  it.  She  meant  to  charge  Harold 
with  the  second  robbery,  and  to  brazen  it  out  if  neces- 
sary. Accordingly,  one  day  she  stole  into  Mrs.  Merton's 
sitting  room,  and  with  the  keys  supplied  by  Harold  suc- 
ceeded in  opening  the  drawer.  Inside,  greatly  to  her  sur- 
prise, she  saw  the  identical  pocketbook  which  it  had  been 
understood  was  taken  at  the  time  of  the  first  robbery. 
She  was  holding  it  in  her  hand,  when  a  slight  noise  led 
her  to  look  up  swiftly. 

To  her  dismay  she  saw  the  old  lady,  whom  she  had 
supposed  out  of  the  house,  regarding  her  sternly. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Felicie.?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton. 

**  I — I  found  these  keys  and  was  trying  them  to  see  if 
any  of  them  had  been  used  at  the  time  your  money  was 
stolen." 

*'  Do  you  know  who  took  my  money  on  that  occasion  ?  " 
continued  the  old  lady. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  answered  Felicie,  swiftly  deciding  to  teU 
the  truth. 

"Who  was  it?" 

"  Your  nephew  Harold,"  answered  Felicie,  glibly. 

"You  know  this.?" 

"  I  saw  him  open  the  drawer.  I  was  looking  through  a 
crack  of  the  door." 

*'  And  you  never  told  me  of  this  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  want  to  expose  him.  He  begged  me  not  to 
do  so." 

*'  That  is  singular.     He  warned  me  yesterday  that  he 


1 66  Conclusion 

suspected  you  of  being  the  thief,  and  that  he  had  reason  to 
think  you  were  planning  a  second  robbery." 

"  He  did  ?  "  said  Fehcie,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Yes ;  what  have  you  to  say  to  it  ?  " 

"  That  he  put  me  up  to  it,  and  gave  me  these  keys  to 
help  me  in  doing  it.  Of  course,  he  expected  to  share  the 
money." 

This  last  statement  was  untrue,  but  Felicie  was  deter- 
mined to  be  revenged  upon  her  treacherous  ally. 
,  "  And  you  accepted  ?  " 

**  Yes,"  said  Felicie,  seeing  no  way  of  escape.  "  I  am 
poor,  and  thought  you  wouldn't  miss  the  money." 

"  My  nephew  accused  Luke  Walton  of  being  the  thief." 

"  It  is  untrue.  He  wanted  to  divert  suspicion  from 
himself.     Besides,  he  hates  Luke." 

"Do  you?" 

"  No ;  I  think  him  much  better  than  Harold." 

"  So  do  I.    Where  did  my  nephew  get  his  gold  watch?  " 

"  It  was  bought  with  the"  money  he  stole  from  the 
drawer." 

"  So  I  supposed.  Well,  Felicie,  you  can  go,  but  I  thinlc 
you  had  better  hand  me  that  bunch  of  keys." 

"  Shall  you  report  me  to  Mrs.  Tracy  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  decided.  For  the  present  we  will  both 
keep  this  matter  secret." 

Luke's  absence  was,  of  course,  noticed  by  Mrs.  Tracy. 

"  Have  you  discharged  Luke  Walton  ? "  she  asked, 
hopefully.  "  I  observe  he  has  not  come  here  for  the  last 
two  or  three  days." 

"  He  has  gone  out  of  the  city — on  business." 

"  I  am  surprised  that  you  should  trust  that  boy  to  such 
an  extent." 

At  this  moment  a  telegraph  messenger  rang  the  bell, 
and  a  telegram  was  brought  up  to  Mrs.  Merton. 

It  ran  thus: 

To  Mrs.  Merton,  —  Prairie  Avenue,  Chicago: 

I  have  recovered  all  my  mother's  money  with  interest.  Mr. 
Powell  is  also  successful.     Will  return  this  evening. 

Luke  Walton. 


Conclusion  167 

*'  Read  it  if  you  like,  Louisa,"  said  the  old  lady,  smiling 
with  satisfaction. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  That  Luke  has  recovered  over  ten  thousand  dollars, 
of  which  his  mother  had  been  defrauded.  It  was  Warner 
who  put  him  on  the  track  of  the  man  who  wrongfully  held 
the  money." 

"  Indeed ! "  said  Mrs.  Tracy,  spitefully.  "  Then  the 
least  he  can  do  is  to  return  the  money  he  took  from  you." 

"  He  never  took  any,  Louisa." 

"Who  did,  then?" 

"  Your  son^  Harold." 

"Who  has  been  telling  lies  about  my  poor  boy?"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Tracy,  angrily. 

"  A  person  who  saw  him  unlocking  the  drawer." 

*'  Has  Luke  Walton  been  telling  falsehoods  about  my 
son?" 

"  No ;  it  was  quite  another  person.  I  have  other  proof 
also,  and  have  known  for  some  time  who  the  real  thief 
was.  If  Harold  claims  that  I  have  done  him  injustice, 
send  him  to  me." 

After  an  interview  with  Harold,  Mrs.  Tracy  was  ob- 
liged to  believe,  much  against  her  will,  that  he  was  the 
guilty  one  and  not  the  boy  she  so  much  detested.  This 
did  not  prepossess  her  any  more  in  favor  of  Luke  Walton, 
whom  she  regarded  as  the  rival  and  enemy  of  her  son. 

It  was  a  joyful  coming  home  for  Luke.  He  removed 
at  once  to  a  nice  neighborhood,  and  ceased  to  be  a  .Chi- 
cago newsboy.  He  did  not  lose  the  friendship  of  Mrs. 
Merton,  who  is  understood  to  have  put  him  down  for  a 
large  legacy  in  her  will,  and  still  employs  him  to  transact 
much  of  her  business.  Next  year  she  proposes  to  establish 
her  nephew,  Warner  Powell,  and  Luke  in  a  commission 
business,  under  the  style  of 

POWELL    &   WALTON 

she  furnishing  the  capital. 

The  house  on  Prairie  Avenue  is  closed.  ,  Mrs.  Tracy  is 


1 68  Conclusion 

married  again,  to  a  man  whose  intemperate  habits  prom- 
ise her  little  happiness.  Harold  seems  unwilling  to  settle 
down  to  business,  but  has  developed  a  taste  for  dress  and 
the  amusements  of  a  young  man  about  town.  He  thinks 
he  will  eventually  be  provided  for  by  Mrs,  Merton,  but  in 
this  he  will  be  mistaken,  as  she  has  decided  to  leave  much 
the  larger  part  of  her  wealth  to  charitable  institutions 
after  remembering  her  nephew,  Warner  Powell,  hand- 
somely. 

Ambrose  Kean  never  repeated  the  mistake  he  had  made. 
Still  more,  by  diligent  economy  he  saved  up  the  sum 
advanced  him  by  Mrs.  Merton,  and  he  offered  it  to  her. 
She  accepted  it,  but  returned  it  many  times  over  to  his 
mother.  Her  patronage  brought  him  another  advantage ; 
it  led  his  employer  to  increase  his  salary,  which  is  now 
double  that  which  he  formerly  received. 

Felicie  lost  her  position,  but  speedily  secured  another, 
where  it  is  to  be  hoped  she  will  be  more  circumspect  in 
her  conduct. 

Thomas  Browning,  after  all,  lost  the  nomination  which 
he  craved — and  much  of  his  wealth  is  gone.  He  dabbled 
in  foolish  speculation,  and  is  now  comparatively  a  poor 
man.  Through  the  agency  of  Jack  King,  the  story  of  his 
breach  of  trust  was  whispered  about,  and  the  sham  phil- 
anthropist is  better  understood  and  less  respected  by  his 
fellow-citizens. 

His  nephew,  Stephen  Webb,  has  been  obliged  to  buckle 
down  to  hard  work  at  ten  dollars  a  week,  and  feels  that  his 
path  in  indeed  thorny. 

Luke  Walton  is  not  puffed  up  by  his  unexpected  and 
remarkable  success.  He  never  fails  to  recognize  kindly, 
and  help,  if  there  is  need,  the  old  associates  of  his  humbler 
days,  and  never  tries  to  conceal  the  fact  that  he  was  once 
a  Chicago  newsboy. 

(5) 
THE    END. 


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:^ECnON  A 
So  Strong  and  Steady  ?„  Brave  and  BoM 

^  Strive  and  Succeafi  8.  Jack's  Ward 

%  Try  and  Trust  9o  Shifting  for  Hima* 

4,  Bound  to  Rise  1<X  Wait  and  Hope 

So  Risen  from  the  Ranki  11.  Paul  the  Peddles 

■%:  Herbert  Carter's  Legacy  IS.  Phil  the  Fiddleir 

SECTION  B 

ISc  Slow  and  Sure  19.  Making  His  Wa|p 

fk  Julius  the  Street  Boy  fO.  Tony  the  Tramp 

1&  Tom  the  Bootblack  21.  Joe's  Luck 

16.  Struggling  Upward  92.  Do  and  Dare 

I'?.  Facing  the  World  23,  Only  an  Irish  Bc^ 

18,  The  Cash  Boy  94o  Sink  or  Swun 

SECTION  C 

f5.  A  Cousin's  Conspiracy  31.  Sam'^s  Chance 

96.  Andy  Gordon  32.  The  Telegraph  Bof 

27.  Bob  Burton  33.  The  Young  Adventns®? 

28.  Harry  Vane  34.  The  Young  Outlaw 
99.  Hector's  Inheritance  33.  The  Young  Salesmao: 
3a  Mark  Mason's  Triumph  36.  Luke  Walton 

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